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by NCISfan-28 (JaimiLee)



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaimiLee/pseuds/NCISfan-28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony offers Ziva his spare room when Ziva is evicted from her own apartment at short notice. Eventful weeks filled with cases, house hunting and her own relationship problems pass. And just when Tony thinks it can't get any more complicated, it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters. All mistakes are mine.

Ziva all but ran - fashionably late - into the squad room, throwing her belongings behind her desk before sitting at her chair and looking towards her team who were looking at her in confusion.

"Late, Ziva?" Tony taunted.

"Do not ask," She huffed.

"What happened?" He asked anyway. Ziva threw him a deadly look. "Okay, okay, forget I asked."

"What are we working on?"

"Nothing for the moment," McGee replied.

"Okay then," She said taking a folder from her relatively small pile of files, "This is just what I need," she murmured under her breath.

"You sure you're okay?" Tony tried again.

"What do you want me to say; everything is fine? Well it isn't," She snapped causing McGee to look up concern for his friend clear in his eyes.

"If you tell us what's wrong then maybe we can help," McGee said.

"I do not need help. If I do, I shall ask," She said.

"Okay, just offering."

"I know," she sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head at her own uncalled for anger directed at her friends. "I am sorry; you are not to blame."

"McGee's to blame for a lot of things, but why not whatever is up with you? Just tell us Ziva," Tony said.

She sighed again - simply re-enforcing the point she was frustrated, tired, angry or all of them - contemplating whether to share. She didn't want empathy or sympathy, she didn't want help, she didn't really want to tell them but looking into their faces; she knew they would only have her best interests at heart. Even if they _all_ happen to push each others buttons. When it came down to it, they would all be there for each other - through thick or thin. 

"The owner of my building sold it, about a month ago. This morning I woke up to the sound of my home phone and got told that I had until Wednesday to move out--"

"Why?" Tony asked.

"He wants to demolish the building, rebuild, make more rooms and make it have better facilities - such as a laundry in the rooms, rather than the building - to make them more expensive."

"Wednesday?" McGee mused, "It's Monday today!"

"I know. I was on the phone to him this morning trying to get a little longer. I will be homeless." 

"Go home," Gibbs ordered, walking in. "Better get packing," He elaborated at Ziva's confused expression.

"If I do that then I might put a bullet through the owner's head," She murmured, "I will be okay for today. I will begin packing tonight."

"Need help?" Tony offered and McGee nodded in agreement to Tony's question. Ziva took this as his offer to help as well.

"No, I should be okay. I do not have that much," She told them, lying slightly.

"Okay," Gibbs said, "If you need our help then you know where to find us," He reminded her, she simply nodded in reply.

"Gear up." He immediately snapped back into 'boss mode' before rattling off the case and address to his team. 

Ziva sighed a sigh of relief at the thought of a case. 

"Happy someone's dead, Ziva?" Tony commented on his observation.

"No, I am happy I do not have to sit at that desk all day with the temptation of calling my building and leaving a not-so-pleasant message for the manager," She replied as they quickly followed McGee and Gibbs to the elevator.

"Sure Ziva," He said under his breath doubtfully. 

"I am not a cold hearted killer," she told him.

"No, you're just a killer," He stated with a smirk, knowing better than anyone how to get under her skin, but when he looked down at his Israeli born partner and saw the look she was giving him, he corrected himself. "Were. Were just a killer."

"Better." He heard her reply.

"Wow, if looks could kill," He murmured under his breath as the metal doors opened.

* * *

At first, the crime scene was clean. Well, clean not including the blood surrounding the body of the petty officer who was yet to be identified. The room was eerily clean. The only thing that was out of place was the blood surrounded dead body in the middle of the room.

"The room was booked by Petty Officer Jamison Walter. According to his files, he was thirty-three years old and had just returned from serving in Afghanistan two weeks ago. He was accompanied by another man who was described as tall, pale skin, blue eyes and brown hair in their late twenties. No name was recorded." Ziva informed Gibbs when she returned to the small hotel room.

"Photos," He ordered as Ducky and Palmer walked in.

"Good morning," Ducky said cheerfully to everyone, he received a chorus of murmuring, but Ziva's clear, accent tainted voice was louder. "I heard you are being evicted, my dear?" He questioned setting his things near the body and pulling out the necessary equipment while he heard Ziva unzip the camera bag.

"Good news travels fast," She murmured, "Yes, so I guess my morning is just as good as that man's," she corrected herself louder.

"Yours has to be a little better."

"Well, yes," she replied as the flash of a light and the click of the shutter filled the room.

"Time of death, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"Around three hours ago," Ducky replied.

"Who found the body?"

"The maid; she is outside," Ziva replied and Gibbs walked past her.

"What are you going to do, Ziva, about your apartment?" Ducky asked, picking the conversation up where it left off.

"I honestly do not know, I guess take it day by day. I will go home tonight and while I begin to pack, I'll look for a cheap apartment to stay in until I find somewhere better." She sighed.

"Don't bother offering help, she doesn't want it," Tony said from the other side of the room, "This is ridiculous, there is nothing here," He added exasperated.

"I didn't know you possessed such words in your vocabulary, Tony." McGee took a cheap shot at the senior field agent.

"Funny, McGee, real funny," He returned snidely.

Ziva paced the perimeter of the room. "Maybe we should look for prints and traces of blood or other bodily fluids," she suggested.

"I'll dust for prints," McGee said. 

* * *

The day didn't seem long enough for Ziva, she didn't want to go home and start packing. It seemed too daunting, especially when Gibbs let them go at ten at night.

They had ended up finding evidence at the scene, but most of it was still getting processed. The evidence was small: shards of glass, samples of blood, torn fabric, a few strands of hair, along with fingerprints, furniture and clothing that Abby was  _going_  to find more from. 

Ziva walked down the almost deserted halls of her building, people had taken time off work to pack their belongings and find places to live. She was one of the only people who hadn't, now she had to do it all in two nights. 

She unlocked the door and threw her keys on the bench next to the door as she turned the lights on, before stopping to remove her weapon from its holster and badge off her waist band placing the gun in a safe and her badge next to her keys. 

She looked around her main living room; she had no idea where to begin. Her bedroom had to be last or she'd have no where to sleep. The task ahead suddenly struck her and overwhelmed the usually calm agent. She took her home phone and dialled the number to her local pizza place, ordering her favourite pizza before deciding not to procrastinate and just start. 

Ziva walked to the spare room that she used for storage and found the boxes she used when she was moving in, unfolding them and sitting on the floor sticky taping the bottoms together so they didn't fall apart when she lifted them. 

A silent knock at the door brought her from her boredom and frustration. She jumped up and walked to the door - still in her clothes from work. Flinging the door open and seeing the one and only Tony DiNozzo; her face fell slightly.

"You look disappointed to see me," He feigned hurt.

"I thought you were the delivery man with my dinner," She said leaving the door open for him and walking back to the room she just left.

"From that pizza place down the road? I got it off him and paid him, you're surprisingly unobservant," He stated. She turned around to see him holding the pizza box.

"Can I please have it?"

"What have you been doing since you got home?"

"Packing."

"Hard to tell."

"I was making boxes," She said, snatching the box off him and sat on the floor in front of the flat boxes.

"Need help?" he asked. He didn't give her a chance to refuse before he sat down and began helping put the boxes together.

"I am just going to find the paper; I will start looking for places."

"Okay," he replied. 

He felt sorry, not that he would ever admit to her face, for her. She had been through a lot in her life time and now she was being kicked out of a place it took everyone ages to convince it was home. 

Since her last apartment had been destroyed and since she had returned to DC, the team had offered to pay the rent for the first few months to help her get back on her feet, also offering to help replace some of the possessions she had lost. She informed them that she appreciated the offer, but it wouldn't feel right and that she would find away to cope. At that time she was trying to get her money from Tel Aviv converted to US dollars and out off her father's possession - which wasn't hard since the bank wasn't faced with a death certificate - and she was trying to get her relatives and friends to ship her photos and other sentimental belongings to Washington. She finally allowed them to help her, but she did admit that it didn't feel like home. 

He since believed that had changed, and now she had to find 'home' in another empty place. The place didn't hold many memories, but the memories it did hold were happy ones as far as he knew.

He wanted to help, but wasn't sure how; he was helping her pack so she could get that done sooner rather than later, but it didn't help the fact that she didn't have anywhere to stay.

He walked from the spare room to the lounge room, he saw her on the lounge with a smile on her face while she talked to someone on the phone, "I do not need your help... Yes, I promise. No, I don't have a place to stay at the moment. I will find one though; I have to."

He knew who it was - her boyfriend, Dylan. He was nice enough, but Tony didn't like him, he was too concerned about Ziva's safety and well being to like him – even if there was nothing he had done to make him worry. He reminded himself every time he felt his blood boil around him or when Ziva spoke about him that it was nothing more, but a part of him knew it was something deeper than that.

He coughed to clear his throat to make his presence known. 

"Hold on a minute," She said to the phone before looking at Tony.

"What do you want me to do with the boxes?" he asked.

"Bring them out here, I will start with the book case and that part of the room," she told him before turning back to her phone, "That was Tony... I'll talk to you later, I need to keep packing." She hung up.

"Still going strong, I see?" Tony asked when he returned with three boxes.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You sound doubtful."

"No, I just don't see enough of him. Sometimes it is more like I am in a relationship with McGee, you and Gibbs more than I am with him."

"Why don't you stay with him until you find a new place?" Tony asked.

"He lives too far away from work and neither of us are ready for  _that_  step," She admitted as she stood and met him in front of the shelf with her dining room chair.

"What are you doing?" he questioned her actions while she stood on the chair.

"I need to get the top so I can get the books," She stated at him like it was plainly obvious before straightening and beginning to remove the books and handing them to Tony who placed them into the smallest box.

"Did you find a place?"

"I haven't looked yet, Dylan rang as I began," Ziva answered. 

She carefully climbed down the chair and took the books from the lower shelves, Tony did the same. Once all the books were in a box labelled  _books,_  Ziva opened a draw with a smaller box in it.

"What's in there?" Tony asked.

"Some photos from when I was a child," She murmured.

"Can I see?" He asked.

"If you wish," She replied and handed the box to him.

He opened the box and found a few photos, some were distinctly her. She looked almost the same aside from she had lost the babyish features, she had become more shapely and more slim than her childhood photos showed her as.

"Who is that?" Tony asked looking at a photo that didn't look like Ziva at all.

"That is my sister," she told him before looking into the box and pulling out another photo, "And that is a photo of my mother." 

"Your sister and mother look alike."

"Looked," She corrected, "they are both dead."

"Sorry," He murmured, not pressing the topic. 

He found a photo of a small Ziva standing on her toes to pear over the edge of a cot. "This is my favourite."

"Really, why?" She asked.

"Because that is just something you'd do."

"What? Look into my sister's cot?" She asked as she placed pictures and various other things into a box.

"Yeah. You, wanting to know everything that's happening and protecting your sister, I'm guessing."

"This one is my favourite," She said looking at the picture she held in her hands before passing it to him.

This one was framed in a deep grey, intricately weaved metal frame where the colour turned from grey to black the closer it got to the outside of the pattern, the pattern weaved so it looked as if it was the branches of a plant that clung to supports to grow. It was a photo of the team at the bar they frequented when they needed to get away for a while, to forget about their jobs or to discuss a case in the confidence of their booth at the bar. The night it was taken was different; it was Abby's birthday, so naturally Gibbs joined them - which was usually rare. They were all sitting close together; the booth was small and surprisingly just allowed them all to sit there. Abby had snatched Ziva's camera and demanded the first passer by to take a photo of them. 

There was two photos taken, but the one handed to him was where no one aside from Abby was expecting it, they were all doing their own thing. Gibbs was talking to Ducky, McGee was listening in to their conversation and while Jimmy sat across from Tony, looking a little awkward while Tony cracked a joke at his expense and Ziva was laughing a long with him at Jimmy. Abby was smiling at the camera.

"Do you have the other one?"

"Yes, but this I like because of the way it capture us," She replied with a soft smile, "The other one shows us all happy, which is good, but I like this one better."

The seconds ticked by, turning to minutes, turning to hours. It wasn't until almost one when Ziva sat against the back of her lounge.

Her living and dining room was almost packed, meaning the smaller things were placed into boxes and things that didn't have a home as of then was thrown wherever it fit at that moment. It was a mess to say the least.

"I have one more day to pack all this," She said looking around what was her home, sounding exhausted.

"Why don't we call in tomorrow sick and finish packing it?" Tony suggested as he took a seat on the floor next to her.

"We are in the middle of a case, Tony." Ziva pointed out.

"I'm fairly sure that you being homeless and losing all your possessions is the priority."

"Oh, god, I have to look for a place too." She let her head fall back. "A little notice would have been good," She complained.

"Just concentrate on getting it all packed," Tony recommended.

"And what happens when it is Wednesday? When I have to move out with nowhere to go, huh?" 

"Why don't you simply focus on packing then you can stay in my spare room until you find another place that you like, that way the only pressure you're under is to get packed. You can stay at my house for as long as you want," Tony offered.

Ziva looked at Tony. "No, Tony, that is your place, I cannot just walk into your place. I do not want to disrupt your life."

"You won't be. Your boyfriend isn't offering, and I doubt you will disrupt my lifestyle. No rent, just do your share of work."

"And if you have a date over?"

Tony shrugged. "Stay out of my way?"

Ziva laughed. "Yeah, because that will be hard. You will be in your bedroom the entire time."

"Then what's the problem?" He asked.

Ziva thought for a moment. "I'm not sure about the not paying rent. Your building's rent is higher than this one."

"Pay me half then. I pay the full sum and then you pay me half of that. My rent is direct debited from my account every two weeks--"

"How did you work out how to do that?"

"You don't know?"

"I know, I was asking you."

"McGee helped me," He said.

"And yet you are still so mean to him." Ziva shook her head.

"C'mon, Ziva, you have nothing to lose. And it's only until you have found a place you want to live."

She contemplated it for a moment before she said, "Okay, I will live with you."

"Okay and what about the rest of your stuff?"

"You win; we can have the day off tomorrow." He smiled in success " _Only_  if I can go to bed now." She smiled.

"Want company?" He asked suggestively.

She chuckled slightly as she stood. "I think I will be okay. I will call McGee and Gibbs in the morning. Goodnight Tony." she smiled as he stood and she walked him to the door. "I will see you tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters. All mistakes are mine.

"Gibbs," she heard her boss say when he answered the phone after the second ring.

"I need the day off today," Ziva said.

"Do you need help packing?" he asked seemingly agreeing to have the day off much to her surprise.

"Please, or else I will never get out of this building. We are in the middle of a case though."

"Do you want the day off, David?" He demanded.

"Yes, I need to."

"Then stop finding excuses to come in and start packing. Have you found a place to stay?" he inquired.

"Tony helped me last night and offered me his spare room while I find somewhere else to live." 

"I'll be there soon," he stated before the line went dead.

Ziva also called McGee who offered his assistance with out being asked. When they arrived, though, she was surprised to see Abby with them. 

"Good morning, Abby."

"What? You expected me to let down a friend in need?"

"I am not in need."

"Yes you are. Tony called me. He told me you were staying with him?"

"Yes," Ziva replied, "do you want to help me pack my bedroom? You would be better help than Tony who would be more interested in my choice of underwear rather than actually helping."

"Sure, where do you want me to begin?" she asked as they walked to Ziva's room.

"I can take the tallboy, you the wardrobe?" Ziva said.

"Got things to hide Ziva?" Abby smirked.

"Never," she replied with a smile, "it is where all the things Tony would be interested in are."

"Oh, so you do?" Abby said. Ziva disappeared momentarily to get a few boxes while Abby sat on the floor folding some of Ziva's shirts.

"Wow, Ziva," she began when Ziva returned.

"What?"

"This," she said holding up a black dress that was short and dipped low on the front, leaving very little to the imagination, "very... Sexy. Why do you have it?" Abby questioned.

"What? Now I cannot be sexy?"

"No, I'm just asking."

"An ex-boyfriend gave it to me."

"And you kept it?" Abby said, "I think you should try it on," she suggested.

"No, Abby," Ziva said.

"C'mon Ziva have some fun," she said, "what are the others doing?" she added.

"Kitchen, I think," Ziva replied.

"You like cooking and that means you probably have a lot of things in your kitchen. It's only you and me."

"Yeah, Ziva, try it on," Tony said leaning against the door frame of her room.

"It can be thrown out. I have had it since I first moved here seven years ago," Ziva said beginning to be backed into a corner.

"You haven't changed. You'd be able to fit into it still."

"I doubt it."

"Do you still wear it?" Tony asked.

"No."

"Does Dylan know that you've kept a gift from an ex?" Abby questioned

"Unless he goes through my things I doubt it. Look," she said snatching the dress from Abby and throwing it in a box.

"So I guess that conversation is over," Abby said to Tony who laughed at Ziva's annoyed expression.

"What do you want?" she demanded. 

"How are we getting all of the stuff to my apartment?"

"Moving truck I guess. Let me just get packed first; then we will worry about everything else, okay," Ziva said, "A day at a time, yes?"

Tony nodded and turned to walk out again.\

Working as a team, they did what Ziva could do in two days with no sleep in a few hours. All the small pieces of furniture, photos and other small belongings were in boxes. The bigger furniture was the next big thing.

"I would say you'll need a storage garage because this stuff won't all fit at my place," Tony said as he observed everyone taking apart various pieces of furniture.

"Is that right?" Ziva said, "did you ever think we should get rid of some of your belongings?"

"Hey, now play fair. I have to move my DVDs from the spare room."

"Play fair? I am moving my whole house! Don't talk to me about playing fair!" Ziva exclaimed.

"Okay, okay. I'll start with the table," he said quickly excusing himself from Ziva's frustration as the sound of knocking at the door echoing through the nearly empty house. 

Ziva stood and walked to her front door, "good afternoon, Mr Zimberman," she greeted.

"This is your last warning Ms David; you must out of here by tomorrow morning at nine."

"Nine? First, you tell me yesterday morning that I have to be out by tomorrow. Now you're telling me I need to be out by nine. You know it is five, and that no one will lease out a moving truck at this hour."

"Find another way. I expect your latest rent in my account by tomorrow."

"I payed rent Sunday."

"You have been living here since?"

"Well let's see. My rent is three hundred a fortnight. One-fifty for the week. It has been a day. One-fifty divided by seven equals twenty-one point forty – rounded – times two for the amount of days living here is forty-two dollars and eighty cents. I have that right now if you would like it," Ziva said, grabbing her purse and pulling out the exact money, "I will be gone by tonight." 

She closed the door on the stunned land lord. 

"What tells me you had that planned, David?" Gibbs smirked at her sly cleverness.

"Because I did," She stated. 

"Did you say tonight, Ziva?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, why not. Do you mind if I kept some things at your place until I find a storage locker, Gibbs?"

"Not at all. I have a trailer; we can get most of the larger things there and the bed and mattress to Tony's. The boxes can go in cars. Start packing," Gibbs naturally took position of leader during the slightly unorganised day. He walked past Ziva and out the door.

"We're going to be up late again aren't we?" Tony called.

"No, we will leave the boxes here and do that last. We need to get the bigger furniture out first, get it to Gibbs before sunset. The boxes will be easier - they take up less room. I will sleep on the spare bed at yours tonight."

"I think it's covered in a heap of stuff. You can have my bed; I'll be on the lounge."

"You will be in your bed and I will be on the lounge--" Ziva argued

"No, you won't be on the lounge."

"Yes, I will, I don't know who you have had in your bed."

"I changed the sheets Sunday."

"I'm not arguing right now," she warned, "I will come out on top."

"Okay, sure. We'll argue about it more when we get home then," he paused, "wait a second. The spare bed has nothing on it, the sheets are clean. No one needs to sleep on the lounge. Unless you really want to," he added

Ziva rolled her eyes before walking over to McGee and piling boxes of clothes and other things belonging to her near the door before having him help her move some of the larger things. By the time Gibbs came back the men were able to simply carry it down the stairs or the lift if space permitted while the girls grabbed a cloth and wiped the dust off the window seals and benches. 

 "I'm going to start a bet," Abby said as they grabbed a few boxes to take to Ziva's car.

"What is the bet about?"

"How long it takes you to seriously harm or kill Tony."

"I have restraint," Ziva said.

"You do?" Abby asked.

"Well a lot more restraint than I used to," she corrected herself.

"I'm going to say," she paused to think, "a month."

"A month? You must really have no faith in me," Ziva taunted.

"I have faith I just know Tony really well."

"So do I."

"Good point; but I still think a month."

"A month for what?" Tony asked as he walked past them on his way back up to the apartment.

"For Ziva to kill you," Abby smiled.

"I say two months," McGee spoke up.

"Thank you McGee," Ziva said, "At least someone has a little faith in me."

"Two weeks," Gibbs said.

"Now that is just ridiculous," she murmured.

"Are we taking anything in my car?" Tony asked.

"Just what doesn't fit in my car?" 

Tony nodded.

Ziva put the boxes in her car, most of them fit. There was only a few that needed to go into Tony's car. 

While Gibbs, Tony and McGee were taking the larger furniture to Gibbs' house, Ziva removed her key from her key ring and did a final sweep of the apartment, finding small weapons she had almost forgotten about hidden between cracks in the benches and a few other small things.

"You know, I'm surprised there weren't more weapons in here," Abby stated as she watched Ziva holster her service weapon, clip her badge to her tracksuit pants and stuff her phone and keys in her pocket.

"The three safes; two of them had weapons," Ziva said absentmindedly.

"Oh."

"I need to go to the office in the lobby, can you pass me the camera," Ziva asked before walking out. 

It was late, almost midnight again, but Ziva didn't care. She knocked on the door of the office until someone answered.

"What?" He asked grumpily.

"I am here to inform you that when the rest of my help arrives I will be leaving. Here are the keys," Ziva said as she turned to walk away.

"Hang on, what damage have you left in your apartment?"

"Damage? What makes you think that I left damage?" 

"I would like to have a look," He stated.

"Okay," Ziva said as she took out the camera and turned it on while she followed him up. He opened the door to her apartment and looked around her cold, empty apartment. There was no longer any evidence of someone living there aside from the two women standing in the room. There was no furniture, no nothing. He silently walked around the room, paying attention to the walls, doorways, corners and the floor.

"What is this?" he asked when he saw a small stain on the floor.

"There when I moved in."

"No it wasn't."

Ziva flicked through the photos until she found the one she was looking for. The time and date stamped photo showed the same stain, "would you like to flick through these so you can see what was here when I arrived?" she asked. He shook his head and continued to look through the flat. 

When he left he found nothing that he could charge Ziva for. Abby who had been silently watching with a smile on her face turned to Ziva when he exited the building.

"Why do you have those photos?"

"It is not the first time I have dealt with a money hungry landlord," Ziva replied as she stood at the door and waited for Abby to leave before closing the door behind her and walking to the lobby with Abby, "sometimes is wasn't just money they were after."

"I think you and Tony will like living together."

"This coming from the person who just told me she was making a bet with the team about how long it will take for me to kill Tony?"

"Yeah, I mean you work together and get along well."

"We get along well because we only see each other at work."

"Liar. I know you've had movie nights, you used to have them once a week. Every Tuesday nights if work permitted."

"So? It wasn't like I saw him every minute of the day."

"Maybe since you'll be living together you will work even better together," she mused.

"Abby I think you are misunderstanding. I am living at Tony's while I find somewhere to live myself. I am just bed surfing."

"Uh, I think you mean couch surfing," Abby corrected, "unless you plan to sleep with him in the literal sense or the metaphorical sense."

"Yes, couch surfing," she said, "I will be there no longer than a month." 

"That's what everyone says, then they find out that they like it there and they don't want to leave. They fall in love and get married."

"Ha, because I am really going to marry Tony. I highly doubt that I will be there any longer - he won't change his lifestyle because I am living there, and he definitely won't want to marry me."

"How do you know?"

"Abby, I think you're forgetting someone," Ziva pointed out.

"Oh, your boyfriend. Then what are you worried about?"

"What?" 

"You looked pretty worried that Tony loved you for a moment."

"No, I did not."

"Yeah, you did."

Ziva shook her head, "I know where this is going and I am not going to have that type of argument; we are not children. Come on, they are here," Ziva said as she spied the car. She stepped out onto the side walk.

"You ready?" Tony asked as he stepped out of Gibbs' car and made it to his own.

"Yes, everything that doesn't fit in my car is in yours, I have handed over my keys and all the bigger stuff is at Gibbs' house," she smiled, "thank you for your help."

"Do you need help at Tony's?" Gibbs asked.

"Um, no, I think I'll be okay. I am sure we are able to lift a few boxes."

"Okay," Gibbs said, "I want you in the office by oh-seven-hundred."

"I'll be there," Ziva replied.

"I was talkin' to DiNozzo," he said before getting into his car and driving off. 

"See you tomorrow," Abby said a few minutes before McGee and walked off to their own cars leaving Tony staring at Ziva as she looked up at the building in front of them.

"You gonna miss it?" He asked.

"No. I am used to it. I did it multiple times with Mossad, especially undercover if I needed to live with another; if I was made, or suspected so, I would simply leave. And I was the target of more than a few threats which would make me leave. Until I moved to America I hadn't stayed in one house for more that about two years," she told him.

"Is that what you meant when we brought you back, you don't see this as home?"

"I don't believe that it is a home, I think 'home' is a feeling - well more a sense. My father's house for instance is a house; it is hostile and unfriendly, the memories I have of my father at his house are of me feeling awkward, not knowing where I belong, it was too impersonal. My mother's house on the other hand was personal; it had less superficial things, more photos of Tali and me. When you walked in it would feel like home. I of course made life a living hell for her. It was kind of like what Gibbs' house is - it has nothing much decoration wise, but what it does have of that is things he likes. It is all distinctly him. With my up bringing influenced mostly by my father, I have never grown attached to a place, but I wanted that to change. It clearly hasn't changed enough," she said, "it is a feeling created by the people you surround yourself with. It's a place where you can discover your real belonging within friends or family - home. Of course it is different for everyone though."

"One day you'll find your home," Tony said, trying to keep her hopes up by running with her metaphor. 

He knew she had trust issues, and the trust issues were derived from being around men who have betrayed her, harmed her or simply broke her heart. He knew that deep down - behind her strong, stubborn, emotionless, façade - she still wanted what every other girl and women wanted; especially now since she had broken ties with Mossad and had a real chance at a normal life. Not one that was being dictated by members of authority within the ranks of the IDF, Mossad or her family. In the end, she wanted to get married and have children, despite how far down the line she wanted it to happen, she still wanted it. But he also knew that it was hard for her to find someone that would accept her and everything that came with her. 

Her past, her demons, the side she still battled with over loyalty, her trust issues, the way she locked her emotions in a draw and threw away the key until the draw became so full that it exploded, acceptance of what she had done and what she was capable of, the obsession she had with her work at times, the late nights, the early starts. All of it needed to be accepted by whoever stole her heart. And it was just as hard for her to allow that person in as much as it was for them to accept it all.

"Maybe," she replied, "Anyway, I am ready to go to your house now."

"It's a house? You sure it's not a home?" Tony asked with a smile.

"I am yet to decide." 

And just like that, the tone between them had changed from serious to their usual playful banter.

"Okay, let's go then," he smiled at her; she returned the smile before turning and walking to her car. Leaving Tony to do the same. 

* * *

"The bed is already made, yes?" Ziva asked as she walked into Tony's apartment.

"No, I'll do that and clear it out a little when we finish unpacking the cars," he replied.

Unpacking took all of five minutes and Tony, true to his word, grabbed the sheets out of the linen cupboard and made the bed for her while she had a look around his apartment.

She made it to her temporary room and leant against the frame of the door, waiting for him to stand up and look at her.

"Your house is disgusting!" she exclaimed.

"Whoa, okay," he said, "why?" 

"It is messy, there is dust everywhere, there is barely any food."

"Hang on; to be fair, I shop every fortnight when I get paid. I get paid tomorrow, I shop tomorrow." 

"You don't have enough money now?"

"I have enough food now. As for the dust and mess, I haven't been home long enough to do anything about it. I was out with a friend Sunday, working Monday, at your place Monday night. Work today and I'm helping you again now," he replies calmly.

Ziva looked at him, an apologetic look crossing her face, "I am sorry; I am just tired." 

"It's okay, just go to bed; we can deal with the mess tomorrow night. Your suitcase is over there," he pointed to the corner of the room before walking out as she walked in, "door shut?" 

"Yes please. Tony," she called as he shut it, he stopped and opened it again, looking at her, "toda," she sincerely thanked.

"You're welcome. See ya in the morning," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters.

The next day was all business. By the look on Vance's face when they had all shown up, he wasn't happy they all put a case on hold and helped Ziva move. By lunch, Ziva, Tony and McGee had decided that it was the silence before the storm.

"The man he was with was identified from the sketch as Robert Sheak. Thirty-three, civilian. He was the Petty Officer's cousin. Missing, five years," Tony reported.

"I spoke to Walter's family; they said that they couldn't imagine anyone wanting him dead. They said they did not notice anything different about him since his return. They were all very distraught. I will go back in a few days and ask them some more questions. They were not answering me sufficiently enough to get anything more out of them," Ziva continued, reading from her notes, "Sheak's family told me the same thing Tony found; that he went missing five years ago. Missing persons reports back that up. They said they had not heard anything from him since the day he left but suspects that Walter's sister knows something. She is currently interstate and has been since two months ago, her family informs me she will be here within a day."

"While they were out interviewing the families, I had a look through the phone and bank records. Walter made and received several phone calls and voice mails from the same number up to fifteen times a day for the past week. I am still working on who the caller was. He is listed as 'Always Answer' in Walter's contacts," McGee said.

"You know, if I had someone that I needed to answer all there calls I would want to make sure his contact details on my phone were cool. Like-" Tony jerked forward at the impact of his boss' hand against the back of his head.

"Finish that and it will be worse," Gibbs growled.

"Yes boss."

"Good work, all of you," Gibbs said. The team broke away from the front of the plasma and was faced with their director.

"Anyone care to share why none of you reported for duty yesterday," he demanded.

"Ziva got kicked out of her apartment and had to be out by nine today, she was told Monday," Gibbs said.

"Where is she staying?"

"DiNozzo's."

"That a good idea?" He questioned.

Ziva and Tony shared a look before Ziva rolled her eyes and murmured: "this reminds me of when I was a child."

"Not my decision," Gibbs said, "it was decided between the two of them."

"I expect your new address is in the system?" He questioned Ziva.

"I was going to do that before I left tonight Director," she said.

"What are your goals for living arrangements?"

"I am taking it day by day, but I do hope to be out of Tony's house within a month," she said, "sir, I assure you that nothing is happening between Agent DiNozzo and myself. I am currently in a relationship and do not want to risk our friendship like that."

"I am more concerned about the Petty Officer's family who were left yesterday with no answers and no one to talk to when they rang, Agent David."

"That has been taken care of; I spoke to them today and apologized for the inconvenience. I do not plan to be evicted from my house again."

He walked away with nothing more to say. As soon as he was out of sight, Ziva held out her hands to the two youngest males on the team.

"Pay up," she demanded.

"Ziva said that he would be quiet for more than half a day. I said before, Tony said at least two," McGee explained at Gibbs' questioning face as he handed a twenty to Ziva.

"I don't care," he replied as he turned and walked out, "back to work. Abby needs to see you Ziver."

Ziva walked alone down to Abby's lab where the she was hypothesising with Ducky. Ziva stood at the door while she waited for them.

"Wouldn't it make more sense for him to just stay off grid?" Abby asked.

"Not if Petty Officer Walter knew something about him that made him a threat, maybe the petty officer knew something and Sheak needed it to stay quiet," Ducky replied.

"Ziva," Abby exclaimed, jumping up and hugging her friend. Ziva hugged her back out of surprise more than anything. After all the years, the bear hugs still came as a surprise to her.

"Hello Ducky," she smiled over Abby's shoulder.

"Good afternoon, Ziva. How was your first night with Tony?" he politely asked.

"Good, his house is okay, I guess," she replied.

Ducky began walking past them as Abby released Ziva from her embrace: "I have a body that needs attending to, I will see you two later," he said as he walked out.

"Gibbs told me you wanted to see me?" Ziva said.

"Yeah, I just wanted to know whether your first night at Tony's went well?"

"Yes, why would it not. We got to his apartment, unpacked the cars, then I went to bed. I do not know what he did."

"So he didn't try anything on you?"

"No..." Ziva said, "if that is all you have called me down for, am I allowed back up stairs to do my job?"

"No I have something, I just wanted you to come down so I could ask you," she began, "the hair that you found; some still have the root which is the only part of the hair that has DNA in it. Kind of like fingernails, there is only DNA in the roots. Anyway, the DNA wasn't in any database-"

"How is that going to help us?"

"That won't, until you have a suspect, but I do have blood," she stated.

"So do I, Abby, so does everyone else," Ziva replied.

"I know that, what I mean is another blood type. The blood that was picked up by the black light was B positive; the victim's blood type was A negative."

"So we have another victim?"

"That or the killer injured them self while committing the crime."

"That would explain them cleaning up after him or herself," Ziva thought out loud, "but if there was a witness or another victim and they didn't want us to see that."

"Ziva, there wasn't enough blood to have another victim dead; the only reason you found that blood was because of the black light," Abby pointed out.

"Do you have the photos?"

"Yeah, just give me a second," Abby said, "what one are you after? I can tell you now, it wasn't cleaned, there was no evidence of cleaning products, the samples were too small. Even on the photos," she said, "you won't prove me wrong."

"I do not want to prove you wrong, just have a look," Ziva said.

"Why are you proving Ziva wrong?" Gibbs asked as he walked in, "no music?"

"I was talking to Ducky before, we couldn't hear each other. Ziva thinks that there is another victim."

"I did not say that, I was thinking out loud," she defended.

"Okay," Abby said in compliance rather than agreement, "there are two types of blood, B positive and A negative. My guess is the killer hurt them self."

"Anything else Abs?" he asked.

"There is samples of DNA that can place a suspect at the crime. The fingerprints are still running through AFIS and the glass has nothing yet. The new guys are recreating the crime scene and I'm just about to go down there and fix everything."

"Good," he said handing her the Caf-POW he held, "you're with DiNozzo, interviewing Walter's boss," he ordered Ziva who nodded once and left.

* * *

"You know, sometimes life can really suck," Tony said as he got into the car after they had interviewed Walter's boss.

"I am aware, I did, after all, just get kicked out of my house," Ziva said as she reviewed her notes, "but what are you talking about."

"Why couldn't people we question be more cooperative, honestly, it's not that hard to answer a few questions honestly. Maybe next time we should remind them that lying to a federal agent was a federal offence."

"Yeah, great idea Tony, then we get charged for threatening."

"No we don't," he argued.

"If we tell them that they have to tell us the truth or they go to jail it is an implied threat. Even if it is something, everyone should know. We can remind them. Besides, we don't actually know whether he li-" Ziva stopped as she flung the car door open and walked back towards the building.

"Ziva!" Tony yelled as he followed her and hit the lock button on his way, "what are you doing?" he asked.

"What he told us does not match up; he said that he hadn't seen or heard from Walter in a week, but then he said that when he spoke to him Sunday he had sounded strange."

"Why didn't we pick that up while we were in there?"

"You were just not paying attention, I was writing the notes."

"I always pay attention on the job," he said.

Ziva walked to the office door and knocked twice.

"Lieutenant, we have a few more questions for you," Tony said when he opened the door.

"What?" he demanded. Ziva walked in first followed by Tony who closed the door behind him.

"While reviewing our notes I found some things that you said didn't quite match up. At the beginning of the interview you told us that you had not had any contact with Petty Officer Walter for a week, and then you continued to say that on Sunday when you were talking to him you noticed he sounded a little strange," Ziva said.

"What's the question?"

"How, when you had not had any contact for a week, did he talk to you on Sunday?"

"Are you accusing me of something?" he immediately jumped to the conclusion, "if you are I would like to talk to my lawyer."

"We are not accusing you of anything thing; we would just simply like a straight answer so we can find out who killed your petty officer. A lawyer can be arranged if you wish, but it kinda makes it sound as though you've done something wrong," Tony said.

"I haven't done anything."

"Then tell us how he contacted you in a week where he apparently didn't contact you," Tony demanded.

"I he didn't contact me directly, it was an email last week and a voice mail on my office phone Sunday. He didn't contact me he knows I'm not here Sunday."

"We need a copy of the email and the voice mail," Ziva said.

He nodded in reply: "is there an email account I can forward it to?"

Tony handed him his card after scribbling his email on the back of it: "we need a hard copy too, please."

"Can we please know your where about on Monday at between six and eight?" Ziva asked, "just so we can clear your name if anything were to come up."

"I was with my wife; I requested to start the day later so I could spend some time with her. The work load has been heavy and I would get home after she had gone to bed and leave before she woke. I work two jobs to be able to support my family. Is that all?" he asked.

They left the office once they had the hard copy of the email and the Lieutenant handed his phone over. Saying that he could get another phone before they left

"Think he did it?" Tony asked when they were in the privacy of the car.

"He did answer our question but that could mean anything," she said, "I don't know what happened; usually I'm right on with that."

"You have a lot on your mind. No one blames you."

"I never said they did. Where did that come from?"

"I think you should do the shopping tonight," he stated changing the subject.

"Why?"

"Then you don't pay rent for the first two weeks, and you can get whatever the hell you want."

"Not tonight; I am going over to Dylan's, he invited me for dinner. That is if we are allowed to go home tonight," She said.

"Oh," he replied a little disappointed. Was it right he felt disappointed?

"I would have thought you'd want to unpack a little," he said.

"I need to wind down a little."

* * *

"I don't understand why you  _have_  to stay at Tony's house," Dylan said as he handed her a glass of red wine and sat next to her.

"Because I have nowhere else to go, and it is only temporary. For no longer than one month. Two at the latest."

"I don't trust him."

"I have no choice  _but_  to trust him," Ziva said, "Tony is a good man."

"I don't like him; is that better?"

"No, it is not better. He is my friend, a very good, very close friend. But in all honesty you do not need to like him; you just need to accept and appreciate that I do."

He remained silent for a moment, looking deep into her eyes: "If you can look me in the eyes and honestly tell me there is nothing happening between you and Tony; I will believe you."

"That is what this is about? You thinking something is happening between Tony and me?"

"Answer me Ziva," he demanded.

Ziva put her glass on the table next to them before taking his glass and placing it next to hers. She lent forward on the small two seated lounge, "nothing is happening between Tony and me," she said before kissing his lips tenderly, before moving to his jaw and neck, "promise," she murmured at his neck.

"You're very convincing," he said as he pulled her head up to his level and pressing his lips to hers.

"But, I do feel a little guilty," she managed between kisses.

"Why's that?" he asked as he slipped the jacket off her shoulders and down her arm.

"I have not been there twenty four hours and I have not unpacked. I think he wants me to," she played with the top buttons of his shirt.

"You've been working all day," he reminded her.

"I am well aware of that," she said as she slowly unbuttoned the top buttons, "you should come and help me move my things to a storage locker when I get one."

"Ziva," he said as he sat back and pulled her forward to straddle his legs, "you could convince me to do just about anything right about now."

She smirked seductively: "do not go around saying that too loud; you might regret it," she lowered her head to his now exposed shoulder and kissed the skin there.

He pushed her backwards so she was no lying on her back, his hands wasting no time pulling her shirt over hear head and exploring the planes of her torso, running under and brushing over her bra.

"Wait," Ziva said.

"What?"

"I really should go," she said.

"Why?"

"Because I feel bad, all my stuff is lying in his living room."

"So...?"

"I think he wants me to move it. Just give me a second," she explained as she pushed him off her and walked towards her bag before grabbing her phone.

" _DiNozzo,_ " she heard his voice answer.

"Do you want me to unpack my stuff?" She asked.

" _No, it's against the wall. There isn't really a need to; 'not in my way at the moment._ "

"You sounded like you wanted me to earlier?"

" _No, I just thought you were going to. I didn't know you had plans already. They'll be waiting for you when you get home,_ " he replied

"Are you sure?"

" _Yes. Spend time with your boyfriend,_ " he said.

"Okay," she replied a little hesitation from guilt still in her voice and lingering in the back of her mind, "I will see you in the morning then?"

" _Yeah, bye._ "

"See you," she hung up.

"Does he want you back at his?" Dylan asked as he watched her look down at her phone; fingering the side of it with unsure fingers while she contemplated what she wanted to do.

"No, he said it will be okay," she said in a voice that made him believe her thoughts were miles away.

"Do you want to join me here again?" he asked.

She still held her phone as she turned on her heels and faced him; she chewed on her bottom lip lightly in thought, but remained where she stood.

He sighed before talking: "you really don't want to be here do you?" he stated more than asked.

"Dylan, it is not that I do not want to be here," she began, "but, I have just moved in with a friend and now I am here when I have not unpacked. This friend does not know the meaning of the word 'privacy'. I should really go back to his apartment and unpack, I feel like I am being rude by not doing it. He deserves to have his apartment after all. I am only a guest," she said, "we are also in the middle of a case. I should stay within fifteen minutes of the base, just in case Gibbs decides that we should be there rather than home."

"That's fine Ziva, I get it. You would rather be with him than me," he replied as he began buttoning the buttons on his shirt again.

"That has nothing to do with this Dylan and you know that," she stated as she walked forward and took her shirt off the floor and put it back over her head before reaching for her jacket.

"Really? It seems like it does."

"Well, you're wrong. I should be in that apartment making myself useful. Like now I should be unpacking my stuff and making sure that we can be around each other as much as we will be in the next month – maybe longer depending on what happens," she said, walking to her bag and putting her phone in it before making sure she had everything else, "I have already assured you that nothing is happening and nothing will happen between us. It is one of Gibbs' rules and if we break them, then we may as well sign our own death certificates, second, I would not endanger our friendship like that and third, you are with the wrong person if you think you can make me choose between friends and boyfriends."

"Maybe you should live with me," he suggested suddenly, effectively stopping Ziva in her small rant.

"What?"

"I said: 'maybe you should live with me'."

Ziva looked down at the bench her bag lied on, she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of he nose before answering: "you and I both know we are not ready for that. Besides, living here; it is too far from work. I am on call basically twenty-four-seven. If Gibbs gets us a case on a Saturday night, we are expected to go and be there as promptly as possible-"

"And all that would change is the 'promptly as possible'," he pointed out.

"My whole routine would need to change. Gibbs would be pissed at me for the first few days while I got that figured out."

"Small price to pay," he said as he stood and walked to her. He stood behind her and placed his lips at her neck, "in retrospect, you are addicted to your work, you would never tell your boss 'no' and by doing that you let him take advantage of you. You and all your co-workers do."

Ziva turned so she faced him, a slight look of disgust on her face: "you think I let my boss take advantage of me?" she asked, "I will have you know that I do not do my job to please my boss. He is the boss, so I must take orders from him yes, but I do not turn up at a crime scene at two in the morning because _he_  wants me there. I don't even do it because his boss wants me there. I do it because those families need closure and I know that my team and I can give that to them. The quicker the better. I also know the effects terrorism can have on a family and many relationships and I know I can help stop one if we know about it. So next time I am stuck at work, maybe think about what I am doing for someone else rather than what you might be missing out on," she said before turning and snatching her bag and walking from the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback is welcomed and appreciated:)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or it's characters.

When Ziva opened the door to the apartment, she didn't expect Tony to still be up. It was getting late and they both knew they had to be at work early the next morning. She silently opened and closed the front door before turning and having the flickering light of the TV catching her eyes. Tony turned his head to look at her, confusion on his face.

"You're home early," he said, "you should be with your boyfriend," if she didn't know better, she'd there was slight, almost unnoticeable bitterness to his voice.

"I felt guilty," she replied as she placed her belongings in the kitchen before walking over to one of the boxes and lifting it.

"I told you, I don't care that they are there. It's too late to be doing anything now. I'll help you tomorrow," he said as he hit pause on his movie and stood from his lounge, walking towards her as she struggled with a particularly heavy box, "Ziva, don't do anything stupid; like strain your back which is what you'll do if you don't put the box down."

She stood, moving from her knees before the usually balanced woman stumbled slightly. Tony rushed forward, steadying the box and her feet, preventing her from falling. With only a box separating them, he took the opportunity to study her, trying to decipher the real reason for her return. She met his eyes momentarily before realising what he was trying to do and diverting her eyes from his.

"Can you help me take this to my room?" she asked.

He pulled the box to him a little more in an attempt to removed the box from her arms, but she only moved with the box, bringing them even closer. Well, as close as the box would allow.

"Just put the box down Ziva. We'll work it out tomorrow night if we knock of early enough, if not, we'll do it on the weekend," he tried compromising with her.

"What about your plans?" she asked looking up at him before away again, "I do not want to interfere with your life."

"You're not," he argued, "put the box down and come and finish this movie with me," he ordered this time.

She met his eyes for longer period of time, narrowing her eyes at him in displeasure. He simply smiled, realising he had won. She let her arms fall, exposing him to the full weight of the box. He moved back to the wall placing the box back to the floor. When he turned around, she was watching him with her arms crossed across her chest.

"You can look at me like that all you want, but you're not unpacking those boxes. And even though I am saying you left Dylan's house for no good reason, you don't seem to be too bothered by that," he observed.

The look in her eyes hardened, she became slightly more defensive, but still said nothing. She turned on her heels and walked to his lounge before sitting on the opposite side of it to where he was sitting, taking the remote and playing the movie. He watched her for a moment before walking back to his lounge.

"Would you like to sit here?" she asked as he sat right beside her, their thighs touching.

"No," he replied.

"Then do you mind moving over?" she asked.

"After you tell me what's bothering you," he said, "what happened at Dylan's house?"

"You know what," she stated, "I think I will go to bed. We need to be up early in the morning," she made an attempt to stand but was stopped when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the lounge, "Tony," she warned.

"Ziva, just tell me what is bothering you and then I'll let you go," he said.

"Nothing is wrong," she disagreed.

"Do you think I'm stupid or something? I can tell when something is bothering you; sometimes you're an open book," he replied.

"It really does not matter. I told him I was coming back here because I wanted to unpack, because we were working on a case and I would need to be at work in reasonable time if Gibbs calls us. To which he replied that I am too addicted to my work, do not know the word 'no' when it comes to Gibbs. Oh, and we also let Gibbs take advantage of us," Ziva admitted, her tone suggesting she was pissed.

Tony felt anger boil within him, this time it wasn't because he didn't like Ziva's boyfriend, but because of his words. How dare he say that people who are risking their lives for others are being taken advantage of? And really, it wouldn't matter; they were letting themselves be taken advantage of for a good reason.

"Why would he say that?" Tony asked.

"Well, he asked me to move in with him. But I have a feeling that is more because he doesn't want me here with you rather than actually wanting me to live with him."

"What did you say?" he asked.

"To what?" she replied.

"Both?"

To moving in with him, I said no. It is too far from work and in response to the work thing; I told him I do not work to please Gibbs or Vance. Then left. I am not going to sit there and be told that I do what I do for the wrong reasons," she said.

"He sounds like an ass," Tony stated, even though he had met him before.

Ziva smiled minutely: "he is generally a good person; just some of the things he says are a little out of line."

"A little!" he exclaimed, "a little? Really, telling us we allow Gibbs to take advantage of us is a little out of line?"

"Look, I know you don't like him; I also know he doesn't like you. But could you please be the bigger person and pretend to like him at least?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah, sure, because I just love being told--"

"He was not talking about you," Ziva replied.

"He insulted all of us with that comment, Ziva. I'd dump him."

Ziva rolled her eyes: "Tony," she warned again before continuing, "I am not impressed by what he said either, but he is not happy with me because he thinks that I have chosen you over him--"

"Have you?" Tony asked.

"If he ever made me choose it would be you. I am not going to make the same mistake twice, you are my friend, he is my boyfriend. I can live without boyfriends, but being here has made me realise that I cannot without friends."

"So yes?"

"No, I did not choose one over the other, I simply to get my priorities right; this place needs to be unpacked. You do not need my stuff in your living room."

"What do you mean by the same mistake twice, Ziva?" he asked, the comment bugged him.

She didn't answer, she looked into his eyes, she didn't want to say the words but still he understood.

"That wasn't your fault Ziva," he said softly.

"If I believed you in the first place, it would not have happened," she almost whispered.

"You were still Mossad, you returning would have happened at some stage with out my interference. Besides, your loyalties were getting intertwined; it was a matter of time before some thing like that happened - meaning you left or something."

"You are adamant about that, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, but if you're gonna blame someone, blame me."

"I do not blame you," she said, before pausing, "any more," she added, "I am sorry Tony."

"Don't apologise Ziva. It's in the past, don't hold on to it," he replied.

She once again didn't meet his eyes, instead they wondered around the room, resting on the clock which read almost midnight.

"Am I allowed to go to bed now?" she asked, noticing that Tony didn't release her arm.

"No," he replied, letting her go - for a reason she found hard to explain, she missed the minimal, barely anything contact between her partner's hand on her arm, "we have a movie to finish," he smiled as she groaned and fell backwards onto the lounge. She looked to the ceiling as he pressed play, the light beginning to flicker through the dark room and the sounds of people taking filled the comfortable silence between the two agents.

* * *

Sometime during the night; around when the credits began rolling up the screen, Ziva wondered, half asleep to her room, silently cursing him for keeping her up even though no hate filled her words, and it wasn't long before he followed, turning the TV off at the power point and locking the doors before walking to his own room.

In the morning, he was rudely awoken to the sound of his home phone ringing, choosing to ignore for a few moments before it reached its last ring and he reached for the offending item that lied on his bedside table, his eyes still closed and his voice husky with sleep.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Is Ziva there?"

"Who is this and how did you get my number?" he asked, suddenly protective of the partner that had shared his apartment with him for the past two nights.

"It's Dylan and she gave it to me in case she didn't pick up her cell," he replied.

The protectiveness was replaced with anger, Ziva's words to him about what Dylan said running through his mind.

"I don't know. Let me have a look and see if she's here," Tony said coolly as he flung the covers back and walking to her room. The door was slightly ajar and when he pushed it open, her bed was empty. He frowned in confusion. He hadn't missed a call out, he was attuned to the ring of his phone - even in the deepest realms of sleep, he would wake to the sound of it.

"She isn't here at the moment, maybe I could take a message and get her to ring you when she gets back?" the polite offer tainted with the undertone in his voice.

"Don't worry, I'll call her a little later," he said.

"Okay," Tony replied hostilely, waiting for him to hang up before doing the same himself.

As he walked from in front of Ziva's room, the front door opened revealing Ziva in loose fitting exercise clothing. A bright jumper, running shoes and pair of black pants. Sweat was coating her face - causing her dark hair stick to her forehead - and she was lightly panting.

"I did not think you would be up?" she questioned as she laid eyes on him.

"Well, I am, thanks to a certain someone that I'm going to guess you don't want to talk to?" he replied.

"He rang here?" Ziva asked, almost complaining.

"What did you expect, Ziva, you clearly weren't answering your phone for him and he clearly wants to talk," he said as he set the phone on the bench.

"I do not want to talk to him at the moment; and he knows unless it is anyone of you or Gibbs I do not answer while I am running."

"Yeah, with your running," Tony began, changing the topic, "why so early; it's like almost six thirty."

"And I get to work at seven; you - I understand - arrive at about eight thirty. If I were you I would have my shower before I do," she suggested.

"Or we can save water and time by having one together," he suggested in return.

"Keep dreaming DiNozzo," she smiled as she walked to the bench where the toaster sat.

"Why do you run?" he asked.

"What do you mean 'why do you run'?" Ziva replied.

"Just why? Why do you have a need to do it?"

"My run wakes me up," she murmured as putting two pieces of bread in the toaster, "it also keeps me fit."

"I don't see how," he muttered.

"You don't see how it keeps you fit?"

"No, how it wakes you up?"

"You shall come with me one morning, then."

"Nah."

"It is good for your fitness," she pointed out as if she didn't say it seconds before.

"So is the gym."

"I do that too when I knock off work most nights if it is at a reasonable hour and I am otherwise unengaged."

"Reasonable hour?" he asked.

"Yes, before nine."

Ziva's cell rang before he had a chance to reply. He barely paid attention to the murmurs on the other end of the phone or to what she was saying, feeling that if it was personal it was really none of his business.

When she hung the phone up, she looked up at Tony: "That was Gibbs he wants us to review the scene again. The floor at the hotel has been shut off since before we arrived; the hotel found evacuated the floor before we arrived," she said.

"He wants us to have a look and interview the remaining people. We did we no do that the other day?"

"We did, but some people were out,"

"Then how would they know?" he asked.

"I don't know that's what we are gonna find out."

The toast popped out of the toaster and landed on the bench. Tony laughed at her when she moved he hand from under the piece of toast that jumped out of the machine and the taken aback look over her face, "haven't you seen those cartoons where the toast jumps out of the toaster?" he asked.

"No," she replied picking her toast up and placing it on a plate, "why would you want that to happen?"

"I don't know I always wanted one that did. It doesn't happen often any more. But it did when it was new," he said still smiling while she frowned at him as she put the topping on her toast.

* * *

"So what are we meant to be looking for?" Ziva asked.

"I don't know; you're the one who spoke to Gibbs. Anything that can tell us what this guy was doing here to get him killed, I guess. Hypothesise with me?" Tony asked.

"Did he have a wife?"

"The wife did it!" Tony exclaimed, "finally on my side Ziva?"

"Uh, no, I asked if he did have a wife, besides I am always on your side. Just not with that. Occasionally you may be right with it though."

"I'm right? Didn't think I'd ever hear you say that Ziva," he replied.

"I said you may be right, not that you were," she said, "did he have a wife?" she repeated.

"He did," he said.

"Well, where is she?" she asked, "you would think finding out that your husband was dead that you would want to talk to the people investigating his death."

"With he parents on the west coast. Has been since Friday."

"Then it cannot be the wife, no?"

"Could be if she hired a hit man," he said.

"I doubt she would, but you'd have to talk to her."

"Who do you think it was then, Special Agent David," the way in which he replied made it sound like he was mocking her.

"Best bet is Robert Sheak. Missing five years and suddenly turns up with his cousin? That doesn't make sense."

"It does if he has something you wanted."

"Like what?" She asked as he knelt at the doorway of the room Walter's was murdered in.

A piece of loose carpet had caught the attention of the senior field agent. He snapped a photo and handing it to Ziva before putting gloves on his hands and lifted it a little. The concrete flooring beneath was covered in a thin layer of dust and dirt. He stood still holding the carpet consequently lifting the carpet higher and tearing it away from the floor below.

"How about whatever is in this?" Tony questioned as he observed a small trap door. The sound of the shutter filled the room as Ziva took a photo just before he knelt and opened the door.

"How about money and drugs?" He took the camera from her taking a few photos of his own.

Ziva knelt and grabbed evidence bags she had shoved in her pockets so they didn't have to carry the box of equipment if they did happen to find anything, helping Tony collect the evidence.

"There has to be another few hundred dollars worth here," Ziva said, "that is on top of the money found there."

Tony was about to reply when his phone rang, "DiNozzo," he said as he handed all he was holding to Ziva to place in a box near the rest of their gear outside, "where is he? Okay, we'll be there soon."

"Gibbs?"

"Yeah, they found Robert Sheak," he stated.

"Where?"

"A park three blocks from here," Tony said as they gathered their things.

"Are we done here?" she asked.

"Have to be for now. Gibbs said he'd send McGee and me back later."

"What about me?"

"He'll probably need you for linguistics, or something."

It took a few minutes to get all their gear back to the car and another few minutes to arrive to the park."

"What does it look like?" Ziva asked McGee as she put her hat on.

"I'm leaning towards suicide, but I doubt it since Walter was found not far from here in the same state. It can't be a serial killer because the MO is different."

"Maybe, it could just be someone knocking out pawns they do not need any more," Ziva said, "Tony and I found money and drugs in a compartment under the carpet at the hotel. Maybe it is drug related?"

"Maybe, Walter's tox-screen is still to get back from Abby, she's run off her feet at the moment. Other teams are getting her to run stuff at the same time."

"And she took the other day off."

"I'm sure she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else but helping you. I'm sure the work load will settle down some soon," McGee said, "Gibbs want you talking to the people who found the body."

Ziva nodded before walking in the opposite direction.

"How was your night?" McGee asked Tony.

"Good, she wasn't there - to begin with, then she came back. We watched the end of a movie together"

"Why?"

"She was with her boyfriend, on the other side of town," Tony replied, "apparently he asked her to move in with him before saying we let Gibbs take advantage of us. All of us. The guy needs to be taught a lesson, and if he's gonna throw comments like that around then he needs to leave her alone," he said, a bordering on deadly tone in his voice.

"Oh, god Tony, you're not going to get jealous again are you?" McGee asked with dread beginning to fill his voice at the tone in Tony's. Knowing it well, it was always mixed with other emotions though. It also didn't take a genius to work out who Tony liked and who he didn't. Throw a few comments against hi personally, against any one in the team - particularly Ziva - it would have who ever the person was on Tony's hit list for the rest of his life.

"No, of course not. What would ever make you believe I would?"

"Would you like me to name names?" He asked seriously.

"Sure."

"Michael Locke, Michael Rivkin, Ray--"

"Okay, okay, you're naming all her boyfriends since she arrived at NCIS. So what, I don't like a lot of people. Your point."

"Are you blind?"

"Blind to what? All those men hurt Ziva, did they not?"

"No, Locke didn't."

"No he just left her as soon as he thought she was accusing him of murder."

"You'd leave her for that too."

"Would not."

"Lair, actually no, you probably wouldn't. My point is; you get very... Possessive of some people - the people you really care about - particularly Ziva. You seem to feel the need to protect the one person who doesn't need protecting."

"Everyone needs protecting," Tony murmured, "Just not Ziva."

"Then what the hell are you doing?" McGee replied

"I'm making sure they don't hurt her. She has been through enough crap in her life. She doesn't need any more."

"I'll never understand you DiNozzo."

"Ditto."

"You stole that from Ghost."

"Not unless you're telling me you love me, McGee."

* * *

"We need to get the wife over here," Ziva said, pacing while she thought.

"We can't get a hold of her," McGee said watching her.

"We need to talk to the sister then."

"Easy, she's here now," Tony said as he watched the burgundy haired woman walk towards them with their escort.

"I'm Hailey Walter. I was called a little earlier. I spoke to a Special Agent David."

"That is me," Ziva said offering her hand, "thank you for coming in so quick. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions in regard to your brother?"

Tears welled up in her warm blue eyes before nodding.

"Okay, it you would follow me," Ziva said as she nodded towards the escorts and began walking to the conference room. Tony ordered McGee to find out what was going on with the physical evidence while Tony was half a second behind Ziva.

She held the door open for Hailey and Tony before stepping in and setting up the recorder on the table.

"Okay, when was your last contact with your brother?" Ziva asked.

"Around Sunday," she sniffed.

"What was the contact regarding?" Tony asked.

"He was acting strange. He told me he missed me and we talked about childhood memories, which we never do."

"Any one in particular?"

"No."

"Did the topic of your missing cousin ever come up? Especially recently?" he continued.

"Uh, he came up in a few of the memories we spoke about, but we never spoke about him now."

"Did Petty Officer Walter ever indicate that he knew the where abouts of Robert Sheak?" he questioned.

"No."

"How about you?" Ziva asked, earning a warning glare from Tony.

She hesitated before answering, "I don't understand what Robert has to do with anything."

"He was found dead this morning," Tony stated as he watched her straight face. Nothing changed, "you seem unsurprised."

"I am, he went off grid for five years; I thought he was dead years ago."

"Okay," Ziva said as she read through a list making sure she had covered most of her questions before asking, "did the Petty Officer have any enemies that you know of?"

"There is one person," she said after a moment of thinking, "his name is Jay... Jay someone. I can't remember his last name, though. He worked with Jamison."

"How about your cousin?"

"I would assume a few, but I haven't spoken to him in years. Am I allowed to go now?" she asked. Tony nodded.

* * *

"Gym?" Tony asked Ziva when they walked into his apartment.

"No, too tired. Big day," Ziva replied with a yawn.

Tony chuckled, "what are you going to do then?" he asked.

"I am going to have a shower and then go to bed," she said walking to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water.

"Have you decided?" he asked.

"Decided?" she asked turning around and sipping from the glass.

"On whether my apartment is a house or a home?"

"For me?"

"Yeah."

"You have two photos of people and the other's are pictures and are very impersonal but it is distinctly you. I think that it is a house; I feel a little out of place. But if you believe it is your home, then so be it."

"Why?"

"'Why' is it in the eye of the beholder?"

"No, why do you feel out of place?"

"It's new," she simply replied, "I am sure when I begin to unpack a little more it will feel more like a home."

"Are you just making all that up?"

"Now, why would I do that?"

He didn't reply, instead he decided to study her for the truth; he found no trace of a lie.

She smirked before talking: "if you want it any different you are going to have to stop asking or else I will start lying."

"I can tell when you lie Ziva, you're a terrible liar."

"Then I guess you have never seen me lie to save my or someone else's lives then."

"I highly doubt that would make a difference."

"Would you put your life in my hands?" she asked seriously, as she turned around and placed the now empty glass in the sink.

"Yeah, I do. Everyday."

"Then why would you not believe me when I say that? I have lied to my father and I can beat a lie detector."

"How?"

"My brother and my father taught me. I only learnt because Ari would ask me questions that I didn't want my father to know the answer to. I will be in the shower."

"Okay," Tony said, "I'm gonna hit the sack, 'night."

"Tony," Ziva said as she watched him walk past her towards the short hall.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what? I've done nothing."

"For allowing me to stay here. It was very kind of you," she said.

"Don't mention it, you weren't going to ask and I wasn't going to sit by and watch a friend in need suffer," he smiled.

"Just take the 'thank you' that is all I am asking. I promise to earn my keep," she replied, "good night Tony."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters.

Ziva watched the clock tick past eight as she rested her head on her hand and paid attention to McGee and Tony's conversation.

"Okay," McGee finally snapped, "if you keep shooting down my ideas, why don't you suggest some of your own?"

For the past half an hour they had been discussing possible motives and theories and each one McGee suggested, Tony would shoot them down. Ziva was surprised about how much patience the man possessed.

"I think that maybe the sister found out that Walters had contact with their cousin and was selling drugs. Then the sister confronted them about it."

"That's plausible, except no one - not even the security cameras - caught a woman going to their room," Ziva pointed out, joining the conversation half heartedly.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked.

"Fine, just thinking some things over," she replied, "any other ideas?" she asked.

"Yeah, perhaps she hired a hit man-" he stopped when Ziva pulled her hand from under her head, letting it hit the table, her knuckles making a sharp knocking against the desk, "what?" he asked her at the action.

"Tony, I just said that no one saw any one else go to their room. Only two people were recorded going into that room."

"The cousin was a hit man-"

"Why would Walters' sister hire their cousin as a hit man? I didn't think that anyone knew he was alive," McGee said.

"Tony, just forget hit men," Ziva said, "forget wives and girlfriends and fiancée."

"If you were hired-"

"I was never hired, it was my job," Ziva quickly said, knowing where he was going, "sometimes I even had a choice," she added.

"Okay, whatever, just roll with me. You killed someone-"

"I just love your approach on some things, Tony," Ziva said sarcastically.

"-How would you leave the scene?" He finished talking over her.

"You already know the answer to that; why ask?" Ziva questioned.

"You told me to give you some suggestions, I'm giving you some."

"Maybe if they were plausible, made sense and didn't relate me to the killer, maybe I would listen," she hissed at him.

"Maybe it was the other way around," McGee said, interrupting his two co-workers before the beginning of the verbal war escalated. They both stopped and looked towards McGee who was leaning back in his chair.

"What?" Tony asked, "what could be the other way around?"

"Maybe the sister was dealing the drugs and her brother caught her. She was the one that was in contact with the cousin. Walters just found up and got caught in amongst it all. Maybe it was the sister and the cousin who were meant to meet at the hotel, but when Sheaks rocked up at the hotel, Walters was there to meet him, he sent a message to Hailey to tell her to stay where she was. They go to talk. It gets out of hand," he explained.

"See," Ziva said pointing to McGee, "plausible," she stated earning a glare from Tony.

"Yeah, good work. You're just forgetting one small fact," Tony said, "who killed the cousin?" he asked, "and Walters' boss was a little shady."

"That could just be who he is, Tony," McGee said, "and I think we should talk to Hailey again."

"He has a wife, yes?" Ziva asked, "maybe we should try and find her again. If she found out who killed her husband, she may have killed him out on revenge."

"Am I hearing right?" Tony asked.

"Don't build it up to be something it is not, Tony?" Ziva snapped.

"Okay, what is it that is really on your mind?" Tony asked.

"I'm going to see if Abby has anything," McGee announced as he stood and left, noting how from Tony's one question, changed the atmosphere between them and affected the rest of the bull pen.

"Nothing is wrong Tony; there is no need to ask."

"Have you heard from Dylan since the other night?" he asked as he stood from his own desk and made his way to kneel in front of hers.

"No," she replied as she pulled her emails up on her computer.

"Is that what is bothering you?" he asked.

"No," she repeated.

"What is it then?" he said.

The elevator  _dinged_  announcing its arrival on their floor. Tony looked up to see who was coming into work at that time when he laid eyes on topic of conversation.

He came to a stop at the side of Ziva's desk, leaning on the room divider. Ziva looked at Tony momentarily watching his eyes follow the man's movements before turning in her chair to face him herself.

"Hello," she said.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Ziva feigned confusion, her eyebrows meeting as she frowned: "ready for what?" she asked.

"Our date," he said.

She swivelled her chair back around to her face Tony and reached for her calendar which was two days behind, flicking through the pages until she found the day's date with a small note scribbled on the notes section.

"I remember now," she said before she took the pen lying on her desk and fiercely putting a line through the note.

"Well?" he asked.

"I cannot go," she stated.

"Why? We've had the reservations for two weeks," he almost whined.

"It is crossed out," she feigned confusion as she looked back towards the calendar.

"You just crossed it out," he said.

"I'm sorry, after the other night - after no phone call - I assumed it was cancelled, besides, I am working," she stated as Gibbs walked in from the opposite side of the bull pen.

" _This_  is exactly what I meant the other night," he stated, his voice rising slightly. Gibbs stopped at his desk and watched Dylan as he spoke.

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" Ziva asked as she stood, "Gibbs, I will be back in about fifteen minutes," she said, Gibbs nodded as Ziva grabbed her jacket and purse.

She didn't say a word as she led the way to the elevator. He stood beside her, waiting for her to speak first. She had her arms folded over her chest and didn't spare him a look even when she could feel his gaze on the side of her head.

He continued to follow her out of the elevator as she made her way to the coffee stand, waiting.

She ordered four drinks before stepping to the side and facing him.

"Why did you assume it was cancelled?" he questioned before she had a chance to speak.

"So everything is just okay then?" she asked in reply.

"I don't see why not," he said.

"After  _you_  tell me I work too much, after you tell me I get taken advantage of,  _you_  decide when everything is okay? Really?" she asked, "I get no say?"

"I honestly didn't think it would bother you this much," he replied.

"Would you like to actually see what I do?" she asked, "do you even know why I am still here?"

"I know what you do-" he began only to be cut off by Ziva.

"Then why did you throw it in my face. My job is important. Right now, the case I will be staying here until later tonight for, his wife is missing - well, we cannot locate her - and his parents want to know who did this to him, and they want answers as soon as we can supply it to them. I actually remember, on our third date telling you that there were going to be times when work will override everything else. You said that was fine. And in regards to the other, I understand that you do not like Tony, fair enough. But that argument was between us, there was no need to bring my friends into it. You know a little about me, but they know a lot more. Gibbs is not taking advantage of us, he has told us to go home on occasions and I have said that if he stays, I stay. If you are no longer okay with that, then I suggest that you tell me now," she said and watched him as he thought.

"Agent David," the person at the coffee stall announced holding out a tray of coffees for her to take.

"Thank you," Ziva said as she took the tray from the counter.

"Another all nighter?" she asked.

"Looking that way," Ziva replied as she put a few coins into the tip jar, "good night," she smiled as she turned and began to walk back to the building. Dylan was still following her.

"It's not that I want to stop seeing you Ziva, I just wish you would at some stage put me first, let me in some - you can sometimes be hard work Ziva," he said.

"Put you first," Ziva murmured, "look, I do not spend every night at work, I enjoy my work, but I am not addicted to it. I do not put you first because I am not married to you, you are not a close friend and you are definitely not family. You are my boyfriend, and like I said the other day, as soon as you make me choose between you and them, you will be gone. I will not even give it a second thought, and if you don't understand that; if you don't understand what I do, then you do not understand me."

He pondered over her words for the rest of the walk to NCIS before he stopped just outside of the doors.

"So, I'm guessing that there is no date," he stated. She didn't reply, she had just explained all that.

"Can you at least call me next time to let me know?" he asked, "just so I know I don't have to drive half way through town?"

"Next time?!" Ziva questioned, "can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you are okay with me working until late?"

"No, but do I have a choice?"

"Yeah, actually you do," she replied.

"Yeah and what's that?"

"You can just tell me you are not okay with it, turn around and walk away - find someone where they do not work late," she stated, her voice lowering from her slightly angered tone.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, looking her in the eyes.

"It does not matter what I want; if you cannot accept me for who I am, what I do or why, then I do not think that this should continue. You have made it clear what you think of it and what you think of various members of my team. I am not going to choose between you and anything that was already in my life before I met you," she stated.

"Ziva, its not that I want you to choose," he said, "I need to know that I am in a relationship with the person who I am with-"

"You need someone dependable, someone who will be there for you when you need it?" she asked.

"You make me sound clingy," he half laughed.

"I am independent and need space," she continued.

"I know," he stated.

"And I definitely cannot have you telling me that how I work and live my life is wrong - it has worked for me for a long time, and just because I enter a relationship, it would not change that quickly. You began expecting me to tell Gibbs that I couldn't come in to work and then get pissed off at me when I didn't. I thought you got over that a while ago which is why I stayed, but then you threw what you did the other night at me and then just before - you cannot do that," she said, "I do not believe it is 'clingy', I think you just need that reassurance, and I can't give that to you. And if you truly believe I can't you can go."

"Are you angry at me now?" he asked.

"A bit," she stated, "look, I need to get back to work, so you need to make your mind up," she added looking over her shoulder at the building that towered over them.

"What if I want to stay?"

"You'd still have to walk away, but I guess you'll call me. If I don't hear anything in the next few days I'll know you made up your mind," she said, turning on her heels, only to be held back by his hand on her upper arm.

"I'm sorry," was all he said, Ziva nodded understanding what he was saying before he began walking away from her.

When she reached the bull pen again, she dropped the tray of coffee onto her desk from a low height and threw her jacket near her bag, burning off what was left of her frustration and anger.

"Didn't go so well?" Tony asked.

"I am not in the mood for your smart ass comments, Tony," she said.

"I wasn't going to be smart ass about anything," he replied sincerely.

"Apparently I should have called him to let him know I was busy so that he didn't have to come from the other side of town. This is after we had a discussion about the other night," she explained, clearly unhappy as she picked up his coffee from the tray to give to him. When she turned around, she was face to face with him, only a few inches separating them.

He put his hands on her upper arms and rubbed them slowly, encouraging her to calm down. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Gibbs.

"Can you talk about this another time?" Gibbs said as he and McGee walked up from Abby's lab. Tony took his coffee after releasing her and walked back to his desk.

"Coffee," Ziva said pointing to her desk, "did Abby have anything?" she asked as she sat on the side of her desk and sipped from her own cup.

* * *

"During your time in Mossad," Tony began as he drove them back to his apartment later that night, gaining Ziva's attention but he stopped short.

She turned to look at him: "what about my time with Mossad?" she asked.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter," he said even though he could tell she knew it did.

"Do not give me that Tony, what is it you want to know?" she asked.

"Did it ever bother you? Your job, I mean?" he asked.

She thought for a moment, she didn't know how to answer. She - personally - never killed an innocent person, but she had witnessed the death of many. The people that died at her hand were guilty, they didn't deserve to live. But she was still killing someone.

"What do you mean?" she asked instead.

"Did it ever bother you that you were killing someone else? In this job, you don't kill unless you're being shot at; they need to make the first move, the first threat."

"The people that I killed did, Tony, they killed many people, they were threatening the security of Israel. I never killed in cold blood," she replied.

"So it never bothered you?" he asked.

"I learnt to detach myself; I learnt to deal with it. I found vices. There is nothing more frightening than discovering what you are capable of, and I have done that multiple times - as you would have the first time you shot or killed someone - after a while you come to terms with it," she said as she looked down at her hands in her lap, "what brought this on?"

"I was thinking last night while I was trying to sleep, about how easy it is to kill someone. Aside from the psychological factors like guilt and that voice telling you its bad and knowing you're gonna kill someone. I mean if McGee's theory is right then the cousin kill the brother then his sister or the wife killed the cousin. You know what I mean. I have killed people - not intentionally, and also not in cold blood - I was just wondering what you thought about it." he asked as he pulled up out the front of his apartment building.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she sighed, "but people have their reasons, whether they are legitimate whether they are viable," she replied as she looked up at Tony as he turn the key and turned his car off.

"Are you defending those people?" he asked.

"No, I would never do that. It is just an observation," she said.

"Could you ever do it?"

"Do what?" Ziva asked, pressing the button on her seatbelt.

"Kill a family member?"

Ziva diverted her eyes: "no," she replied before she opened her door and got out of the car to avoid any more of his questions.

He quickly followed, locking his car as he walked beside her. He sensed that she wanted the conversation to be over, he had placed her in a corner and he didn't know how.

"That was quick," he replied, gently pushing, seeing how far he could go before she shut down.

"Do not ask questions you do not want the answer of - my life has been a complicated one, there is not enough minutes in the day," she stated.

"Hours," he corrected before changing the subject, "how did it go with Dylan?"

"Fine," she replied.

"Are we not in a talking mood tonight?" he questioned at the bitterness in her voice, "or did he do something else?"

"Apparently I didn't give him the curtsey of letting him know that I wouldn't be able to make it when I had one; forgotten and two; he never called to tell me that it was still on. Apparently it was inconvenient for him to drive halfway through town," she said as she opened the door, "I-"

"Why are you dating him?" Tony asked, interrupting her.

"Why?"

"You just seem... Incompatible, he clearly doesn't understand you or get why you do what you do?"

Ziva thought about it, her movements slowing down while she did: "I do not know," she replied, "there was something about him that was alluring."

"Was?" he asked.

"Yes, I cannot even remember what it was now, it is gone," she said as she hung her keys on the hooks near the door after disposing of her bag, "besides, it no longer matters."

"Why?" he questioned.

"I gave him a choice and he chose," she stated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters.

Tony stood against the bench, the next morning, staring blankly at the wall lined with benches and cupboard still half asleep while he waited for the kettle to boil. The door creaked open, and Ziva, hair sticking to her forehead and neck while sweat created a shine across her face as well as a few beads of sweat forming, walked through, closing it behind her.

"'Morning," he murmured.

"I see we are not a morning person," she cheerfully stated with a small smile gracing her face.

"I see you are," he replied, "you are happier this morning," he observed as she walked past him, removing her phone from her pocket and putting her keys beside it on the bench.

"Why would I not be?" she questioned, filling a glass half full of water before sitting at the table.

"You did just break up with your boyfriend," he stated.

"Yeah, well, if he does not appreciate what I do, then he does not appreciate me," she said as she looked at the bottom of her glass thoughtfully.

"Tony..." she began, but stopped, hesitating.

"Yeah?" he prompted.

"Am I like my father?" she asked, seeking reassurance that she wasn't like the man that she tried not to become.

"No," he replied slowly, curious to see where it went, "why?" He poured the hot water into a cup and sat opposite her.

"Just Dylan, sometime during the night said that I put everything before my work, that I was sometimes hard work. Just reminded me of some things I have noticed in my father and the conversations he and my mother used to have before she left him."

"Ziva, if your sister was still alive-"

"She is not Tony," Ziva replied, not wanting to bring her up.

"I know, just hear me out," he said, "if she was alive, and she needed something from you. It is two hours after our lunch break. What would you do?" he asked.

"I would give her what she needed." Her answer was immediate.

"What would you do if I needed something?"

"But you're not family, you are..."

"What am I Ziva?" he asked.

"I don't know, Abby is like my sister and McGee a brother, but you are something different, not in a bad way. It is complicated." She gave up.

He frowned at her slightly and then laughed: "it doesn't matter that I'm not family - I don't know whether that is good or bad yet - what would you do? I was in trouble."

"I would help you then kick your ass for getting yourself into trouble," she replied.

"And there is the difference between you and your father," he replied.

"What about work?" she asked, "I would rather be there than here."

"You have priorities, and when you find someone that understands that then you might have found someone that could help make a home." He smiled, "although I'm not sure why you're asking for my reassurance, you know that you are not you're father, and you know that someone will understand why you have late nights at work."

She didn't reply, she simply nodded before standing and walking to the sink and placing her glass in the bottom of it, her face pensive.

"Oh, and I feel obliged to tell you that I'm going out tonight," he said.

"Why do you feel obliged, we are not married, I cannot stop you from going out," she stated.

"I just thought you ought to know. Do you want to come?" he asked, the words slipping from his lips before he thought about them.

"Where are you going?" she contemplated.

"There is some new place down town, a friend that I've kept in touch with from Baltimore and I am going to check it out," he replied.

"He is your wingman, yes?" she inquired.

"No, I don't have a wingman," he said.

"Liar. Every man that I have had a one night stand with always had a wingman."

"Now you're lying," he baited.

"What would make you say that?"

"You don't have one night stands," he stated.

"Oh, how little you know about me," she said.

"Do you want to go or not?" he asked ignoring her statement.

She thought for a moment before answering: "yeah, sure. I have nothing to lose."

* * *

Tony and Ziva waited in the dark parking lot while they waited for his friend.

Ziva sat against the warm bonnet of his car with her arms wrapped tightly around her holding her jacket to her, allowing the thin fabric to protect her from the cool night.

"Why can we not just go in and wait for him in there?" Ziva asked Tony who stood in front of her.

"Because he isn't  _that_ late, we got here early and he should be here soon, he got caught in traffic," he replied, "are you seriously cold?"

"Yes, do you have a problem with that?" she snapped.

"No, I just don't think it's as cold," he said.

"Oh, no, it's the middle of summer and instead of icy winds we have humid nights," she sarcastically replied.

"Now that was just uncalled for," Tony murmured, "you are such a desert person."

"I was born and raised in the desert, Tony. Of course I am going to have a natural preference for hotter weather," she said.

"Hey, look, here he comes." Tony ignored her as he watched the other car approach and pull up beside them.

"Are you excited that your boyfriend is here?" She leant close and smirked to his ear.

He shot her a warning looked before pulling her forward to greet the man stepping out of the car.

"Hey, Tony, long time; no see," he said.

"Yeah." Tony agreed, "this is Ziva; Ziva, this is Dwayne," he introduced the two.

Dwayne held out his hand and Ziva politely shook it with a sweet smile spreading across her darkened skin.

"And how, exactly, did Tony land a woman like you?" He asked.

"Oh, we are not together." Ziva clarified, "I am living with him at the moment, he was kind enough to offer me his spare room after I - and the rest of my building - was evicted," she explained.

"My apologies, you seemed so..." He let the sentence hang.

"Yeah, we get it all the time," Tony said impatiently, "let's go," he demanded.

"What is the hurry, Tony?" Dwayne asked.

"I thought we were here to drink, not stand in the  _cold_." He threw a look towards Ziva, who rolled her eyes and smirked a little, "they won't serve us out here," he pointed out.

"Tony is right," Ziva said, "it is cold out here and I need a drink." Without waiting for the two men, she walked towards the double doors, expecting them to catch up.

"So you have no relations with Ziva?" Dwayne asked Tony, his eyes watched Ziva's figure as she walked ahead.

"No, just partners and roommates," Tony clarified, "but please, no hitting on her," he begged as they followed Ziva into the building.

"Why? If you're not going to why can't I?" He demanded.

"It's complicated," Tony murmured, "I would rather not have to deal with her if you throw her some line to get her into bed about calling her back and then not doing it," Tony said a little louder and the music of the bar became louder than his voice. His eyes skimmed bar and its tables before lying eyes on Ziva sitting at the bar ordering drinks for them.

"Oh, so she's one of  _those_  girls?"

"Woman," Tony corrected almost without knowing, "and no, she's not one of  _those_  women, that's my point."

"I think I should be able to make my own mind up," Dwayne stated as his eyes found her through the crowd.

"She just broke up with her boyfriend," Tony said.

"So she's vulnerable?" He asked looking back towards Tony.

"Ziva doesn't get vulnerable," Tony stated as they finally reached her.

She turned around in her seat and looked apologetically at Dwayne: "I am sorry, I did not know what you wanted to drink, I ordered you the same as I ordered Tony, I hope that is okay?" She asked.

"That's fine," he replied as he pulled the vacant seat next to her a closer and sat on it placing an elbow on the table and leaning closer towards her. The close proximity of the man whom she barely knew made her shift uncomfortably. Ziva glanced at him suspiciously before looking up at Tony who continued standing of to the side of where the stools were placed, a silent conversation occurring between the two as Dwayne began to talk.

"Tony has told me a bit about you-" he began, only to be cut off.

"If your next line is: 'but he never mentioned how beautiful you are' or anything along those lines. I have heard it before," she said, "and I am very unimpressed, you seem to be about Tony's age, maybe a little older, I would think you could have thought of something better. Besides, I am not interested. Now, if you would excuse me." She slid from her stool after taking her drink.

"I'm designated?" Tony questioned as a satisfied smirk made its way to his face.

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him: "if you wish. I will be over there if you need me," She pointed to an area down the bar a little further.

"Do you know them?" He questioned.

"No, but I thought I'd try my luck." A cheeky smile spread across her before she walked in the general direction.

"What?" He asked Tony, dumbfounded, as he watched Ziva walk away and Tony take her spot. The smile previously on Ziva's face now mirrored by his.

"I told ya." Tony tried to suppress his laughs, failing miserably.

"No you said that you didn't want to deal with her if I left it at a one night thing," he argued.

"Yeah and I also told you she wasn't one of  _those_  women," Tony explained, "as if you thought that that would get you in her pants."

"Oh, so you've been there; in her pants, I mean?" Dwayne asked.

"Oh, no."

"Tried?"

"Yeah, of course I've tried, she's a hot Israeli chick who carries and knows how to use a gun." Tony pointed out.

* * *

Throughout the night Ziva had migrated back to where Tony was located, sitting beside him as she got progressively drunk.

"I'm going to get another." The statement was mixed in with slurred words and a half laugh, "do you want one?" She asked the two men.

"No, Ziva," Tony said taking hold of her wrist gently as she attempted to stand, "and I don't think you should be having another either."

"Why?" She pouted.

"Because you are really drunk and I would rather be you home before you throw up here or in my car," he replied.

"If you don't want to take her, I can drive her home," Dwayne suggested.

"Yeah, that'd work. If you weren't almost as drunk. I'm calling you a cab and then taking Ziva back to our apartment," Tony explained, authority hiding behind his voice.

"Maybe I want to go with him," Ziva said uncharacteristically quiet.

"No, Ziva, we are going home."

Trusting his slightly more sober friend to steadily walk, he wrapped an arm around Ziva's waist and helped as she stumbled through the bar towards the exit.

He set Ziva in the car and she obediently sat where he told her to while he began talking into his phone to a cab company, waiting patiently until the cab arrived, farewelling his friend before walking to the driver's seat of his car.

"You and I are going to have a talk tomorrow," he murmured.

"Why?" She asked.

"Because I have only ever seen you this drunk in, well, never."

"I am not  _that_ drunk. It could be worse, had been worse. I went to a party when I lived in Israel, I remember nothing from the party but I did wake up next to some guy who claimed to be at the party, but I wouldn't know. I could not remember the party," She rambled.

"Okay, just don't get sick in my car," he replied while the key twisted in the ignition and the car turned on.

"I do not get sick," she stated.

"Your friend," she began after a moment of silence settled within the car, "I do not like him."

"Why?" Tony asked.

"But it was fun to toy with him a bit," she continued as if Tony had not spoken.

"I could tell," he murmured pulling into a parking space out front of the building, "he wanted to sleep with you."

"I know, I might be a little drunk, but I am not stupid," she said as she kicked the door open with her foot.

"Hey, no kicking the doors," he warned.

Tony made sure not to stray to far from Ziva as she stumbled a little as she climbed the stairs after refusing to take the elevator. He held the door open from her.

As she walked through, her foot dragged across the floor, catching on the lip at the door causing her to trip. He hand going to his shoulder and Tony catching her waist, holding her close as she regained her footing.

"Sorry," she whispered.

Her eyes briefly flittered between his lips and his eyes. Tony watched her cautiously. Her lips slightly parted, her warm breathe caressed the side of his face. He could see the thoughts flickering through her mind.

She adjusted her feet, standing taller against him. She didn't remove her hand, and his were still at her waist. Before he knew what had happened she had leant forward, pressing her lips gently against his - testing. The feather light kiss was gone as quick as it had come.

Her eyes held her thoughts, holding as much confusion as he felt.

"Your lips are soft." She observed in a quiet whisper before she leant forward again.

His hand moved from her waist to the base of her ribcage, holding her at a distance, preventing her from moving closer.

"Ziva, no," he said, watching her eyes while he spoke. He expected to see some emotion that would flicker in her eyes before she pushed back, hid it and stepped away from him - some form of rejection. But it never came. Just understanding.

She nodded at his words and said no more.

"Why don't we get you to bed?" He suggested.

"Is that an offer, Tony?" She asked, a playful glint sparking in her eyes as their hands simultaneously dropped from the other.

"No," he replied.

She offered him a friendly smile as she walked in the direction of her room.

* * *

"And how do we feel this morning?" Tony asked as he heard Ziva's footsteps enter the kitchen.

"Fine, just a slight headache. Like I said last night, I was not extremely drunk. I remember everything that happened," she said as she sat across from him, opening the paper with properties for rent.

"Oh," he murmured, "so you remember-"

"That I kissed you? Yes, though I would hardly count it as a kiss, it was more like what would happen if someone was standing way to close to you," she finished, "I do apologise either way."

He watched as she studied the paper in front of her, reading I've the description of each house or apartment that caught her fancy.

"There's no need to apologise, I didn't mind, and it didn't go anywhere. You just broke up with your boyfriend; I don't think you'd want to sleep with your best friend after that anyway."

She looked up in surprise: "you are my best friend?"

"Of course, who else would be?" He grinned, "What have you got planned for today?"

"I have a few places I want to look at. If I like them, and if I can afford them, I'll ask for a contract and be out of your chair."

"Hair, out of your hair. Not chair. And I don't mind, you can stay as long as you need."

"I do not want to be a pain in your neck," she said.

"You never could be." He smiled gently at her.

"What about working with me every weekday, coming home to me, me being there on the weekends. All day; everyday, I'll be there." She pointed out.

"If you take out the 'married' part of that, then I have no problem with it," he replied.

"Do you want to come with me?" She asked.

"Where?"

"Looking at houses and apartments?"

"Sure. Where are you planning on looking?" He asked as he slid his chair closer to her and turned the paper so he could also see.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters.

“What the hell is this place?” Tony asked as he walked out of one of the rooms in the foreign house.

“Tony, it is cheap, it is close to work, it is better than nothing,” Ziva stated as she eyed the kitchen.

“You don’t really want this place, do you? There is no room for you to move, no where for you to cook - I know how much you like to cook, it would be a shame if you couldn’t host anymore of your little dinner parties,” Tony said.

“What are you trying to do?” Ziva asked, narrowing her eyes at him, “You have not liked the last three apartments that I have looked at.”

“You didn’t either,” He pointed out.

“That is not true,” Ziva replied, walking down the hall again with her head in the brochure, Tony following close behind.

“Okay, but you have to admit, this is really small. Are you planning on down grading your bed? Not cooking anymore-“

“Less cleaning, more time-“

“Cramped, no company,” Tony said.

“If I wanted company, I would just come and stay with you,” Ziva replied. She turned around to walk back out, running into Tony’s chest.

“Sorry,” She murmured.

“See, no room,” He stated.

“It is a hallway, Tony, it is not meant to be very wide,” Ziva pointed out.

“What’s the rent?” He asked.

“I do not know, it is not on the brochure,” Ziva said, flicking through the few pages.

“Ziva,” He began, taking hold of her shoulders and directing her to the kitchen and living area, “Is this really the kitchen you want?” He asked. He turned her around to the window viewing out over a small balcony, the view of the building next door. “Is that really the view you want. A brick wall?”

Ziva rolled her eyes. “What are you getting at?” She asked.

“Next,” He stated.

“Fine.” Ziva sighed.

* * *

“I like this one,” Ziva said as she walked out of the master bedroom.

Tony looked around defeated. “Yeah, okay, I can agree with you on this one.”

“Everything is good. The rooms are big enough. There are two spare rooms; one I can use as storage,” Ziva mused, “Big kitchen and decent living/dining area.” She walked into the kitchen, running her hands over the benches.

“Are you planning on getting to work on time?” Tony asked, digging his hands deep into his pockets.

“Excuse me?” Ziva asked, turning to face him, “You just said that there was nothing wrong with this place.”

“Actually no, I didn’t. I said I liked this place. Not that there wasn’t anything wrong with it,” He replied, watching her as she folded her arms over her chest.

“What is wrong with it then?” She questioned.

“It’s too far away from work, further than the last place you looked at,” He stated, “Can you imagine the drag it would become for everyone else if they wanted to visit you? It’s like, ‘where are you going?’ ‘Just for a three hour drive to see my partner. I’ll be back in about nine hours’,” He mimicked.

“It does not take that long to get from your apartment to here, it does not take that long to get from here to work,” Ziva said, “And besides, I can deal with the distance. It is fine.”

“For you,” He said, “I think you should think about everyone else too.”

“So I am now renting this apartment for all of you?” She asked.

“Hello,” A formal looking woman said, noticing the bickering pair.

“Hi,” Ziva replied, giving Tony a steady stare before tearing her eyes from him.

“I’m Chloe.” Chloe offered her hand to Ziva. “What’s it that you’re looking for?” She asked.

“A place big enough and apparently one that lives up to his standards,” Ziva replied.

“Well, this place offers plenty of room. There are three bed rooms, all of decent sizes for when the two of you decide to start a family,” She cheerfully talked up the house.

Ziva looked towards Tony as fast as he looked towards here. “We are not together,” Ziva quickly said, “He is just a friend and he is helping me look for a place.”

“Oh, um, well, I’m sorry. This place is suited for single people too-“

“She works in the Navy yard,” Tony interrupted causing Ziva to deliver a quick, sharp blow to his side.

“Excellent public transport system,” Chloe said.

“Not for the time she wakes up,” Tony murmured, rubbing his side.

Ziva rolled her eyes and walked away from him, towards Chloe. “I have recently been evicted from my apartment; I have been staying with him. The distance I can deal with. But I need something that is comfortable and spacious,” Ziva stated, listening intently while Chloe began talking about the apartment.

A few minutes later, Ziva stormed from the apartment complex, with Tony trying to keep up but falling a few steps behind her.

“Do you want me to stay at your apartment forever?” Ziva fumed once they were in the confidence of the car.

“I’m sorry if I thought there are better apartments - closer to work - that you’d want?” Tony snapped in reply.

“I do not care for commutes,” Ziva said.

“I’m sure you would be saying that after two weeks of forty-five minute drives to and from work, early mornings and then late nights. You get up at who knows what hour every morning, if you were to keep the same routine you’d need to get up about an hour earlier,” Tony said.

“Look, Tony, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but next time I will take Abby or McGee or Gibbs or go by myself,” She replied, running a hand through her hair, “There was no need to be rude.”

“But as soon as she said the price of the rent, I could tell that you’d lost interest-“

“But there is a difference between letting them off lightly and saying ‘she’s not interested. Let’s go, Ziva’,” Ziva replied.

“I didn’t want to be there all day,” Tony argued, “Besides; I thought the ex-Mossad-assassin wouldn’t have either. I didn’t realise that you were one for dragging it out. You let her go on five minutes after you decided you didn’t want the place,” He added.

She rolled her eyes. “Just drive.”

“Oh, okay, I get it. You’re pissed off at me.”

“Good, we are on the same page then,” She snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the gaps between updates, I'm trying to get this caught up with what's on Tumblr and FFn and I have a little trouble remembering that its still a little behind... But I'll get it caught up today and have the newest chapter on all of them:)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters.

“Hey, Ziva. What’re you doing down here?” Abby asked as she walked into her lab the following Monday to see Ziva at her desk reading through a file.

“Breathing,” Ziva replied.

“So what you’ve been doing for the past thirty years wasn’t breathing? Can you teach me that trick?” Abby asked as she slipped her lab coat on.

Ziva looked up at her. “Tony is being insufferable,” She murmured, “All weekend. I need some space.”

“He couldn’t be that bad,” Abby said.

“You know what he did?” Ziva asked, putting the file down and laying her notes on it.

“No, I haven’t spoken to him since Friday,” Abby replied, taking a seat on her desk.

“Friday we went out with one of his friends - who I do not like, by the way - which was okay. Then Saturday I took him to some of the apartments that I found in the paper that I wanted to look at and the whole time he pointed out flaws in them. ‘This place is too small’, ‘this place is too far from work’, ‘do you want visitors to come over?’ The whole time. Then at the last place we saw we had the real estate agent approach us and he was extremely rude. The rest of the weekend he all but chained me to the lounge and forced me to watch his movie marathon with him. Do you even know what that is like?” Ziva asked.

“Did he use handcuffs?” Abby questioned.

Ziva’s eyes narrows as her brow turned to a frown. “What?”

“To chain you to the lounge. Did he use handcuffs?”

“He did not bound me, if that is what you are asking,” Ziva replied, “You did not answer my question.”

“That he made you watch movies all yesterday?” Abby asked, “That doesn’t surprise me. I stayed there years ago while there was a problem with my bathroom. That was all we did. It was pretty cool; although he did sit there the whole time reciting lines or telling me what had happened.” Abby stood and walked from her office, turning her computers and other forensic equipment on as she walked around the lab.

Ziva followed her. “Why does he have to be so…” She let her sentence trail off, in her frustration unable to find the correct words.

“Tony?”Abby asked.

“Yes,” Ziva replied.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” Abby smirked. “Tony is being like Tony because… He’s Tony.” Ziva rolled her eyes. “Look, Ziva, he cares about you. He was probably just making sure you didn’t rent an apartment that was going to hold you back. As for the movies, he was spending time with you. You should be flattered.”

“Did I mention he woke me up early on the one day of the week that I allow myself to sleep in?” Ziva questioned.

“Were you asleep?” Abby asked.

“No, but that is beside my point. How did he know that I did not have anything else planned for yesterday?”

“Did you?”

“No, but he didn’t know that,” Ziva grumbled.

“Just remember that you chose to live with him. You know what he is like. And by the way this is going Gibbs is going to win the bet.”

“I did not  _choose_  to live with him-“

“He didn’t force you to,” Abby said, “Besides that are you enjoying living with him?”

Ziva shrugged. “Wake up. See him. Go to work. See him. Go home. See him. Go to sleep. See him.”

“So you’re married?” Abby asked.

“No,” Ziva said, “It is just… a lot of Tony.”

“If you’re going to sleep and seeing him, does that mean that you’re sleeping with him?”

“Okay, Abby, if you are going to insist that something is going on between Tony and me, then I will leave. We get enough of this from people who are not our friends,” Ziva stated.

“Shouldn’t that tell you something?” Abby said a smirk crossing her face as Ziva rolled her eyes.

“Any developments on the case?” Abby asked, grabbing hold of Ziva’s arm when she motioned to walk out.

“No, McGee is going to talk to Hailey later, while Tony and I are waiting for the search warrant to search her house. McGee had a pretty good theory that we are working from for the moment,” Ziva explained, “So McGee is stuck with the office work.”

“Lucky McGee,” Abby said, adding a laugh at the end of it. She turned and walked past Ziva, back to her office where she sat in her chair and began opening her emails. “Can I suggest something? About you and Tony?” Abby asked.

“Yes, of course,” Ziva replied, standing in front of Abby’s desk.

“Talk to him,” Abby simply said, “He doesn’t know he’s done anything wrong unless you tell him. He’s a good friend but he’s also like that annoying brother who keeps stirring the pot for some kind of reaction. It’s just who he is. And he provides some kind of comedic relief from gruesome murders and psychotic killers. You can’t stand there and tell me that if he disappeared you wouldn’t miss his consistent comments about movies or women, his teasing - although he probably calls that character building, because it really is. Look at McGee, when he first joined the team he was a nervous, stuttering wreck who wouldn’t hold his own, and look at him now he knows how to deal with people like Tony and a wider range of people. Anyway, he knows he oversteps the mark sometimes and that’s when you need to tell him to give you some space. He’s not gonna want to push you away because of his behaviour, especially if he doesn’t know it’s bothering you. Not matter how well you think you can read each other or whatever, talk to him. It’s the only way he’s going to know,” Abby said.

“It’s not so much his comments and his movies or… Character building that annoys me. His child like behaviour is just part of who he is. I am not asking him to change that. It is a little endearing - the amount of enthusiasm he holds for movies. I do not wish for him to stop being him. He is very much himself,” Ziva stated, a soft smile gracing her lips.

“Then what’s bothering you?” Abby questioned, looking up from her computer screen.

Ziva sat back against the edge of Abby’s desk, looking out if the window while she thought over Abby’s well placed question. It was a good question. She knew her irritation only scraped across the surface of her composure. She knew deep down that she was not annoyed at Tony. She could not be at something so irrational.

She frowned before answering. “I do not know.” The honesty in her voice surprising even her own ears. If there was any trace of a lie, it would have appeared in her voice.

“Maybe you’re just not used to it?” Abby questioned, “Maybe it’s a bit of a culture shock.”

“What do you mean?” Ziva asked as she turned to face her, reaching the file she would have forgotten about if not seen it.

“Well, it must be a little bit of a shock. Going from your house, living by yourself under your own conditions, to suddenly being kicked out of your own home and placed into Tony’s with barely any notice. He is more out going and you’re more conservative with your life. You enjoy your independence and Tony likes to be around his friends.”

“You know Tony well, yes,” Ziva stated.

Abby smiled at Ziva. “Well, yeah. He’s like a brother to me. We spend heaps of time outside of work together. Of course I know Tony well. Just as well as you, which makes me wonder why you are asking my advice?”

Ziva returned Abby’s smile. “I have no clue. I will talk to him. There is something I want to ask him about anyway.”

“Ask who about what?” Tony asked as he stood off to the side, “Hey, Abbs.”

“Nothing,” Ziva replied.

“I don’t have any more yet, Tony, I’m still waiting for the final test results, I need to look over all his clothes again to make sure I haven’t missed anything and if you can get me a suspect I can match their DNA,” Abby reported.

“Yeah, I know. You just got in. I need Ziva,” He said, “The search warrant has been approved, Gibbs wants us to go.”

Ziva stood from her seat, folder in hand offering a kind smile to Abby before she turned and walked out beside Tony.

“Ziva,” Abby called, causing Ziva to turn back and face her. “Remember what I said.” Ziva nodded and continued walking.

The silence between Tony and Ziva remained tense on the way to the parking garage. He knew that Ziva was on her last nerve and Ziva was trying to let go of the irrational irritation. It wasn’t until they were halfway to the address that they had been supplied with that Tony spoke.

“Why did you disappear so quickly after we got to work?” He asked, sparing her a quick glance before looking back towards the road.

“I just needed some space,” Ziva murmured, “Has Hailey showed up yet?”

“Yep, she should have arrived-” He looked towards his watch. “-Two minutes ago.” He fell silent again. Ziva could hear him thinking over her words, taking them more personally than he needed to.

“Ziva, if I’m in your space, just tell me. We have to be able to stand each other, we are living together,” He explained.

“You are not in my space. I think it was just a bit of a surprise having someone constantly around waking me up and dragging me out of bed on a Sunday,” She replied, with a smile.

“You weren’t even asleep,” He stated, a little incredulously.

“That did not mean I wanted to be dragged from my bed to your lounge where I was forced to watch movies all day long,” Ziva said.

“You were reading,” Tony snapped, joking.

“Maybe I wanted to read all day. It was the first weekend in ages that we have had off-“

“Yeah, I don’t work on the same team or anything.” He pulled up out front of the house. “Honestly, next time if I’m bothering you. Tell me, and I’ll stop,” He said as he stepped from the car.

Ziva nodded. “Does she have any house mates?”

“No, I don’t think so. Well, she doesn’t share the lease with anyone and it’s not listed on her records.” Tony replied, digging the warrant from his pocket while Ziva knocked on the door.

They heard movement on the other side, throwing a quick glance at one another before the door swung open, revealing a tall, brunette woman clad in baggy track-suit pants and a tight t-shirt.

Tony’s eyes quickly followed the woman’s figure before he smiled. Taking a moment too long, Ziva rolled her eyes and snatched the warrant from her partner.

“Special Agent David and DiNozzo. NCIS,” Ziva said as she showed her ID and badge to the woman. “Who are you?”

“Emily,” She replied.

“Okay, Emily, we have a warrant-” Tony grabbed the warrant back from Ziva, throwing her a glance before serving it to her. “-To search this property, under the premise of Hailey Walter being a suspect in our investigation.”

“Yeah, I know that. Her brother died a few days ago. She went to NCIS this morning,” Emily replied, looking between the two agents.

“That means you let us in,” Ziva stated.

Emily gave them a once over again before stepping back and allowing them into the house.

“So, Emily,” Tony began as Ziva walked to the kitchen, putting her gloves on as she went, “What are you doing here?” He asked, “Hailey doesn’t have any one else listed on the lease or any records to suggest that she was living with some one.”

“She’s doesn’t. She lives alone, but we went out last night, and came back here after we were kicked out of the bar. She was the designated driver, she thought it would be better since she had to be with your people early this morning,” Emily explained, “Can I go get changed?” She asked.

“In a minute,” Tony stated, “Why were you drinking on a Sunday night. Seems like an odd night to go partying?”

Emily rolled her eyes, not having the patience for his questions. “It was the only night we have both had free in ages, we took advantage of that. Can I go now?”

“No,” Tony replied, “Hailey mixed up with any drugs?” He asked.

Emily gapped at him, like suggesting her friend using drugs was an unspeakable action. “No,” She replied after a minute of stuttering and trying to find the right words.

“So, yes,” Tony shot back. “I’m pretty good at knowing when someone is lying, especially when we have two dead men suspected to be caught up in drugs for one reason or another and that’s the reason for their death.”

“She used to. But that was years ago now. She wouldn’t go back to them, she wouldn’t do that to herself again,” Emily replied.

“What about her cousin? Robert Sheak?” Tony asked, as he ran his gloved finger across the surface of the bookshelf, dust coming loose.

“He’s missing,” Emily stated. The hostility in her voice causing Tony to look back towards her.

“A bit of a sharp answer there.” He observed. “I’m guessing you knew Hailey had been in contact.”

“No, he was missing. He went out one day and never came back. He used to live here with her,” She replied.

“When you knew him, was he into drugs?” Tony asked.

“Why do you keep pressing this? I have told you that Hailey wouldn’t be as stupid to do that to herself again. She almost died twice. Her cousin is long gone and has been for a while,” Emily exclaimed.

“Yeah, he’s long gone now. He’s dead. Cause of death was the same as it was for Petty Officer Jamison,” Tony said, pulling the cushions off the couch.

“This is all going back the way you found it,” She stated.

“Depends.” Tony shrugged.

“Tony,” Ziva called, her voice echoing from the back of the house, “Found something.” Her voice was closer.

He looked up and met her half way, turning their back on the other occupant and speaking lowly. “In her bedroom, bottom of her wardrobe, there was a lose floorboard, large sums of money and drugs. By the looks of it, a fair variety of them,” Ziva reported holding up an evidence bag with a few smaller bags in it.

“Any weapons?” Tony asked.

“Not yet,” Ziva whispered, “Should I call Gibbs?” She asked, “We have reason to hold her now.”

“I will in a moment,” Tony replied, his voice also low.

They heard the light click of a gun behind them. “No you won’t.” The voice of Emily stated.

Both agents slowly turned around, trying not to spook the girl into firing the weapon, her eyes trained only on Ziva.

“Put the money down over there,” Emily ordered, tilting her head in the direction of the lounge Tony had previously been ripping the cushions off of.

Ziva contemplated rebelling against the woman for a moment. But when she cocked the gun at her, she decided that they had her anyway, it wouldn’t have matter if she got away. There would be another chance now that they had seen who was doing this. Hopefully it was before someone else died.

“Ziva,” Tony whispered, “Just do as she says.”

She walked, taking measured steps to the lounge. “You killed Petty Officer Walter and his cousin. Then framed his sister?” Ziva asked.

“No,” Emily replied.

She was watching Ziva closely and didn’t see Tony reach for his own weapon; Ziva looked up, shaking her head slightly, but he continued to do so anyway.

“Then why hold us at gun point?” Ziva questioned Emily but watched Tony, trying to warn him against it.

“She has stuff of mine, and it’s not the drugs. I spoke honestly when I said that I didn’t know she was doing drugs again,” She replied, “Here’s what we’re going to do.” She spoke sweetly.

“You’re going to stand there, beside your partner, and you’re going to let me go,” She stated, talking to Ziva.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Tony said.

“Well, it’s either that or I shoot your partner,” Emily snapped harshly, still not facing him.

“That’s interesting,” Tony mused, “How ‘bout this: you shoot my partner, I’ll shoot you,” He stated.

She turned her head to face Tony, giving Ziva a chance to un-holster her own weapon.

“You can calculate the odds, but they’re not going to work in your favour,” Tony said, an air of confidence hidden in his voice.

“Put down your weapon,” Ziva ordered, “Hands on your head.”

Emily reluctantly agreed; Tony cuffed her while Ziva grabbed Emily’s gun.

* * *

“We have two suspects who spent the night together,” McGee stated, standing between Tony and Ziva in the observation as they watched Gibbs interrogate Emily.

“Could have been comparing stories,” Ziva continued.

“I don’t think so,” McGee replied, “I interrogated Hailey. Their stories are different. Hailey is denying any involvement and Emily is trying to pin the blame,” He continued.

“Yeah, but for someone who we haven’t even spoken to yet, she seems to know a fair bit,” Tony said.

“Maybe they are both in it together,” Ziva stated.

“Really, Ziva. Never would have thought of that,” Tony snapped.

Ziva leant forward, looking past McGee toward Tony. “What is wrong with you?” She asked.

“Nothing,” He replied, his tone lowered, “I just think that it might be a bit unrealistic to think that. If they were in it together, there would be some coordination between their stories, and there isn’t. Emily tried to take the money you found in Hailey’s room off us, you would think that if they were working together they’d try to cover for each other, and they’d split the money,” Tony explained.

“That’s no need to snap,” McGee murmured.

“But what if she did not split the money, what would happen then?” Ziva questioned, “If Hailey sold the drugs, that her cousin gave to her and then her brother found out, maybe Hailey recruited Emily to kill her brother, when her cousin found out that that is what happened, she sent Emily to kill him too. The death of her brother and cousin in exchange for money. Maybe she never got the money,” Ziva hypothesised.

“Then why would Hailey invite Emily over to party?” Tony asked.

“They were at Hailey’s house last night. They didn’t go out,” McGee stated, “I asked for reference. They stayed together, but they didn’t go out.”

“So she wasn’t invited over,” Ziva mused

“She could have been invited over,” Tony replied, “She could have just accepted the invite because she wanted to do exactly what we were.” He added as the door to observation opened.

“Hey, guys,” Abby said, “I have DNA results back. The DNA on the hair matches Walter’s sister, which means that she was there when or near the time he died. The mystery blood type matches Emily though. And I tested the floors again; there was a small amount of cleaning agents on it that I missed in the first test I ran.”

“She lied then too?” Tony asked.

“Not necessarily,” McGee stated, “Couldn’t Emily have found hair in her hairbrush or something and then planted it at the scene?”

“And the drugs?” Ziva added, “Is Hailey still here?” McGee nodded. “I’ll be back in a minute,” She murmured as she slipped out of the room.

“Where’s she going?” Tony asked, watching as she left.

“I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say if she wanted us to know then she would have told us,” McGee replied.

Tony and McGee had been watching the interrogation for at least half an hour when a knock on the interrogation room’s door echoed through the room. Gibbs looked behind him at the observation room before he walked to the door.

“What?” He hissed, as he stepped out and slammed the door behind him.

“Abby matched the hair found at the scene to Hailey, but the blood matched Emily,” Ziva reported, passing the folder to Gibbs as Tony and McGee stepped from the observation room. “I spoke to Hailey, and she said that Emily and her brother dated for about a month before things went bad between them, it was a messy break up, and because of the break up her and Emily had a falling out as well, Emily held a grudge. However, she did say that Emily was invited over last night to see if they could rebuild the bridge between them. Perhaps Emily wanted them both gone, so she murdered Walter, planting drugs under the carpet in the hotel room and his sisters hair, the sister that has had a history of dealing with drugs, then planted the drugs in her house. The money was already there.”

Gibbs looked down at Ziva. “She wanted the money,” Gibbs stated.

“If she planted the money, maybe she assumed that since we were bringing Hailey in today that we would arrest her, she just wanted it back,” Tony said

“What about the cousin?” McGee asked.

“Maybe he was just caught in the middle of it all,” Tony suggested, “Or maybe he was supplying the drugs.”

* * *

With the killer behind bars and nothing but case reports to finish and cold cases to review, by the time Friday rolled around, Tony was ready to get away. As much as he loved his job, what he didn’t love was the amount of paperwork that accompanied it.

“Do you ever get the feeling to just burn all the paper?” Tony asked as he stepped into his apartment, Ziva following not far behind.

“What?” She questioned as she walked past him in the direction of her room.

“You know, the paperwork, just shred or burn it just so we don’t have to do it,” He said, dropping heavily onto the lounge and loosening his tie.

“Uh, no,” She called pausing as she reappeared, “Because they would just find another way for us to do it and people still need closure for the cold cases,” She stated.

“You want to do something tonight?” He asked.

“Like what?” Ziva asked, lying back and closing her eyes.

“Dinner then come back here for movies?” He asked, hope filling his voice at the prospect of getting out of the apartment, away from work.

Her head lolled to the side, looking towards him and opening her eyes. “If you want to watch a movie and have dinner then why don’t we just go out for dinner and then watch a movie or watch a movie and then have dinner?” She asked, before adding, “Like we used to?”

A soft smile spread across his face at her suggestion. It had been a while, but she was right, they  _used_  to go out once a month for dinner and a newly released film, as friends and partners to break up the once a week movie nights at either one’s place. That was before things got complicated and before when they actually had more time. That was not to say they didn’t go out, because they did, it was more spontaneous, whenever it could be planned, rather than the routine.

“As long as we promise to make it happen again, like it used to,” He replied.

The smile she returned was genuine. “I will just go and get ready then,” She stated, standing from her seat and returning to her room. Only reappearing when she was clad in casual jeans and a top.

A few hours later, after the movie was finished Tony was babbling about how good the actors were but how the dialogue seemed a little sketchy. Ziva listened intently to his words, full well knowing she would never need the knowledge he enlightened her with, but as she had told Abby, she found his enthusiasm endearing.

He drove them to the small restaurant they had once been regulars at. After ordering the same drinks and the same meal as they had last time they ate there, they chose their seats in one of the only free tables in the middle of the room.

Once Tony had finished discussing the movie, he noticed Ziva had crawler back into her shell, she was listening but she also seemed caught in her own thoughts and emotions of a topic unknown to Tony.

“What’s up?” He asked. Her head snapped up, his words ripping her from her headspace.

“Nothing, I’m just thinking,” She replied.

“About what?”

“A few things and Dylan is over there in the corner by the door. I am trying to have him not notice me. I do not want that conversation in public,” Ziva said.

“He’s with someone,” Tony reported.

Ziva looked up at him, a bored look in them. “I do not care who he is with,” She replied, “I do not want him coming over here and interrupting our night.”

Tony reached over, with our thinking, and grabbed the hand that had recently decided to trace patterns on the white table cloth. “He is only a distraction if you let him be one,” He stated.

Her smile was small, thankful, as she looked into his eyes, holding his gaze.

“Don’t worry about him,” Tony stated as their food was placed on the table.

“Has he tried to contact you?” Tony asked after a moment of eating in silence.

“Not since the night we broke it off,” Ziva said, “Which suits me fine, I’m not going to continue to be with someone who does not have the patience to wait if I cannot be there when he says. I was never going to be that person who just did everything their boyfriend told them to.” Ziva shrugged. “Can we stop talking about him now?”

Tony nodded, his gaze changing focus to over Ziva’s shoulder. “He’s coming over, with his girlfriend,” He warned in a murmur.

Not a minute later, he stood to the side of the table, the woman who accompanied him close to his side. He looked between the two agents. “Ziva,” He greeted.

Ziva spared a glance and faked a smile. “Dylan,” She replied before going back to her food, hoping they would leave.

“This is Nikki,” He introduced.

Ziva shot a frustrated stare towards Tony before looking back up at Dylan. “I’m Ziva,” She stated, looking towards the blonde woman who seemed to cling to Dylan’s arm.

“I see you moved on quickly then,” Tony said.

“I could say the same thing to Ziva,” Dylan replied.

Tony lied his cutlery down beside his plate and leant back in his chair, becoming defensive. “Ziva and I aren’t dating, we are here as friends, enjoying the time we have because we rarely get time off.” He paused for a heartbeat, seeming to remember what Ziva had told him Dylan had said. “And it’s not because our boss takes advantage of us,” He added.

Dylan looked between the two again. “Well, it’s just, this little set up here seems pretty intimate, and the fact that she shares everything with you too,” He replied.

“We are partners,” Tony said, his voice slowing down as if he was talking to a small child with an incapacity to understand his words. “We need to know what’s bothering the other or it doesn’t work. It’s a mutual thing; she tells me, I tell her. If she’s distracted and we raid someone’s house and they have a gun, a split second of a lapse in concentration and one of us could be gone.”

“You’re cops?” The blonde woman exclaimed, pulling a chair from a near by table to join them at theirs, waiting for them to share at least one story.

“Special Agents,” Ziva stated, watching the girl closely. “I uh, see that you did not like my distance so instead you went for the opposite,” She said to Dylan.

“Come on, Nikki,” Dylan said, pulling gently on her arm. “I miss you Ziva, there was a lot I didn’t like about the relationship but there was a lot I liked about you.” He turned and walked away, directing Nikki to the door.

Ziva was fuming. She aggressively ate the rest of her meal. Finishing before Tony and scaring him with the deadly look in her eyes.

“I hope you were having a good night up until he showed up,” Tony said as he pushed his own plate away from him.

“I was.” The hostility in her voice made her look more frightening.

He paused before speaking again. “Ready to go then?”

“Yes,” She replied.

Following his lead, they made it to his car. They were travelling just a few minutes before Tony heard Ziva sigh.

“I am sorry, Tony. I did not mean to be so… Annoyed at you. It was not your fault,” Ziva said.

“Don’t worry about it,” He stated, “I totally understand, who would want to see their ex, ever?”

The silence that settled the next time was more comfortable. Ziva had let down her walls again, the hostility was gone. But he could tell something was still on her mind. By the look on her face. By the way she picked at her fingernails. By the way she simply let the silence hang.

The only difference between then and in the restaurant was Tony didn’t asked. He figured that whatever it was, if she wanted to talk about it she’d approach him. He knew what happened when he meddled too much in her life. He had discovered that the hard way.

When the door swung open to the apartment he let her in first, she silently made her way to the lounge where are simply sat.

Tony, who was planning on retiring to his room, let the plans he had slip from his mind, instead joining her. He waited. He knew she was going to talk. And it only took a few minutes for it to happen.

“I cannot believe he just came over and made conversation with us. What gives him the right?” She fumed.

Tony shrugged; opening his mouth to speak, only to be cut off before he begun.

“And then to tell me he missed me - that he still liked me! If he liked me that much then he would have fought for it,” She continued.

“Liking you doesn’t mean he cared for what you had,” Tony said.

Hearing his words surprised Ziva. Hearing the simple statement slip from his lips, meaning a lot more than he seemed to plan.

“Why do you do it?” She asked, her tone softening to match his.

“Do what?” He questioned in return. It was not the direction he expected the conversation to turn.

“Feel the need to try to cheer me up continuously, or try to protect me or defend me?”

Her question stopped him short of any answers because he simply didn’t have one. Multiple times he attempted an answer, even a few witty remarks that he knew she wouldn’t have appreciated. He only achieved looking like a fish out of water. He shrugged instead.

“I don’t know,” He said, deciding he needed to say something. “I guess it’s because I feel it’s my job. I mean, you do the same. I need to make sure you’re at your best on the field, because ultimately you directly affect me.”

She nodded, absorbing his words. “What about last weekend when we were looking at the apartments?”

“I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret later.” The answer coming easily to him.

“It was not going to be permanent,” She stated, “Only temporary.”

“You have a temporary place, Ziva, you need to be looking for a more permanent one,” He said. His words seeming to hurt him in a slight but unfamiliar way.

“I do not want to crowd your living space Tony, my plan was to be here for a few weeks, then move to another place where the pressure is off for me to move,” She replied

“How many times do I have to tell you before you believe me; you are not crowding me. And I’m sorry if you feel pressured by me to leave, if that’s what I’m doing, then I apologise. I’m not meaning to,” He said.

“So you want me to stay forever then,” She stated, sarcasm and bitterness sounded in her voice. She turned towards him, moving her whole body.

“If that is as long as it takes you to find something you’re truly happy with and could live in the rest of your life; then yes. I am not going to kick you out. I’m not going to stand by and watch a friend in trouble. That’s not fair on you, and I would feel horrible,” He replied. The genuine response caused Ziva to freeze in surprise.

“That is one of the reasons I like you,” She stated.

“What?” He asked.

“I like the fact that you would do anything for a friend. It almost scares me to know that you would give anything and everything to make sure that I was okay.” Her honesty startling Tony.

“That’s because you’re not only modest but somewhere along the road, decided you weren’t worth it.” Without thinking his hand brushed by her cheek, landing on her shoulder and moving to her upper arm. She saw her eyes drop to his hand and flickering back to his face. “But you know what? You are worth it. I only do that because I know you are. You decided your life wasn’t good enough to be saved; I’m guessing you lost that around the time you left for Somalia.” His words weren’t hurtful, but she still looked away, he knew he had guessed right. “That is why I do it, because I can see things in you that you don’t seem to see. Things that are worth while.” He smiled softly, giving her upper arm a reassuring squeeze before his hand fell.

“That’s why I’m not going to-“

“Shh,” She said, pressing her finger to his lips.

She shuffled closer, the proximity between their bodies would have been uncomfortable between any other people but to them it seemed right.

Her eyes weren’t focused on his. They were focused on his lips covered by her finger.

Her movements were slow. She moved her finger when she was sure he wasn’t going to talk again, but also giving him time to object. His words running through her mind encouraged her to continue.

Her lips met his in a light brush, previous to the weekend before. The difference was they were both sober. He yielded to her lips, moving his lips against hers slowly. As the kiss continued the more heated it got. Their hands which held the other were cautiously stationary. Her hands remained at the back of his head and at his neck; his hands were at her sides.

It wasn’t until he felt one of her hands move to the top of his chest that he pulled back.

“Ziva,” He said breathlessly, taking hold of her hand. Her head was bowed. Her forehead almost resting in the crook of his neck.

He feared the worst as he reached for her chin and encouraged her to lift her head. His fears were confirmed when he saw the look in her eyes. The rejection vacant from the previous week now shone deep in her chocolate brown eyes; not matter how well she tried to hide it, he could still see it.

She tried pulling away from him. “I- I understand,” She murmured.

He held her hand to her chest. His grip tightened when she tried to pull it away.

“Are you sure?” He questioned.

She was an arms-length away when her gentle fighting ceased.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I mean are you sure you really want to do this?”

He still hadn’t released her hand. It seemed like the point she was focusing on.

She didn’t take long to decide her choice. Her smile was gentle as she walked to him again, closer this time. She knelt on the lounge so she appeared slightly taller than him before she kissed him again.

It was hard and passionate, but not fast. Both savouring the feel, the taste of each other. They were in no hurry.

Their hands were no longer stationary. His fingers wound in her hair, while he wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her tight.

She wriggled within his hold to move back only enough so she could move her hand down his chest and abdomen to the hem of his shirt. Which was quickly disposed of when she forced enough room between them.

He eased her back to lie on the lounge, to his surprise she conformed to his wish. Hovering above her, his hands rubbed against her sides each time his hands moved towards her rub cage, the shirt moved higher. One hand slipped beneath her top ad begun fingering the strap of her bra. He pulled the shirt from over her head before he waited for hero arch her back to undo the bra.

The kissing didn’t stop unless it was necessary. Their lips never left the other until Tony pulled away only to work his way down her neck and lower.

“We should move,” Her breathless voice asked as her fingers on one clenched a little tighter at his back and the other at his chest.

“Why?” He murmured to her chest.

“Because, there is not an awful lot of room on your lounge and I would like to move,” She replied.

The down side of her request was that Tony’s soft touch and lips left her body, much to Ziva’s displease.

Tony laughed at her expression as he offered his hand to pull her from the lounge and quickly to his chest. After the exchange of another quick kiss, he led her to go room, and she didn’t complain.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caught up now :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters.

Ziva was still pressed flush against Tony when she woke up the following morning. Her head tucked beneath his chin, and his arms still wrapped around her waist.

He was awake. His breathing wasn’t slow enough for sleep and his fingers against her back weren’t stationary as they lightly traced patterns on her back.

When she pulled away to put space between their bodies, his arm tightened around her, almost instinctively.

“Good morning,” He said, contempt, as he opened his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“No where,” She whispered her reply, “My arm is dead.” She turned to her back to look at the ceiling, consequently moving his hand to her stomach. It didn’t stop his fingers from moving. They still drew the light patterns over her skin. But this time it was different. It tested the new boundaries that had been created because the previous night had broken many of what had been enforced by not only the both of them.

There should have been some kind of difference between them. One that made it awkward, but it wasn’t. A difference that made them second guess what happened from the moment they woke, but there wasn’t. It was comfortable, like they had done it before, like they had done it a million times.

There was no great proclamation of feeling or emotions that lead to it. Just two people. Two people who shared a moment and acted on it instead of ignoring it again.

Ziva’s eyes slid close as she focused on just the feeling of his hand on her skin. He shifted closer to her and pressed his lips to the side of her neck as his hand slid around her hip.

He heard her laugh drily causing his to pull back and look down at her. “What? There is absolutely nothing funny about this?” He stated with a small smile.

“Nothing, I am guessing you didn’t regret last night though.” Her smile was much wider, but her comment caused his to frown.

“You do?” He asked.

Her hands went to the back of his head; her fingers ran through his hair. “No,” She stated, her eyes focusing on his lips, “I simply thought that you might have.” She lifted her head at the same time he lowered his, their lips meeting.

“No regrets here,” He said before he deepened the kiss as he moved above her.

“I’m glad,” She said between their kissing before she pulled away completely.

He looked at her questioningly. “I’m just going to get some water. Do you want anything?” She asked.

“I think I’m alright,” He replied before she began walking out of the room.

Tony didn’t regret anything that had happened, it was true; but he had questions for her. One in particular, it was slowly making him really consider what had happened and the events leading up to them sleeping together. Especially after her comment on regrets. But, he wasn’t going to bring it up. Not yet anyway. He knew that it would gnaw on his mind until he asked the question, but she didn’t seem to regret it so he decided he would bring it up when - and if - she began to. After all, he didn’t know what drove her to kiss him, or even do half of what she had initiated.

She returned moments later with her cell in one hand and her small glass in the other.

“What did you have planned today?” Tony asked as she returned to his side.

“I think there is an open house somewhere that I want to go to,” She said, “I am not taking you this time,” She warned.

“C’mon, you have to admit, I did save you from some real bad places. The last thing I need is to have you come into work bitching about how bad your place is,” He said.

“I do not bitch about anything,” She defended.

“Lair,” He murmured, “Anyway, where were we before you left?” He questioned, resuming their kissing as one of the phone began ringing.

They jumped apart like someone had just swung the door to his room open and they had been caught.

“Hello?” Ziva picked up the phone on the floor beside her, her voice a little breathless.

“We have a case. DiNozzo there?” Gibbs asked.

“Yes, do you need to talk to him?”

“No,” He said.

“Where is the address?” She asked after a moment.

“Just come to the office.”

“Okay, we will be there soon,” Ziva said before hanging up.

“Gibbs?” Tony asked. Ziva nodded. “What was it?”

“We have a case. I guess we find out what when we get there.”

* * *

“McGee,” Ziva greeted with a bright smile as she placed her bag behind her desk, “Do you know why we are here?”

“No, Gibbs is in the conference room, but I know he has called Abby in, but not Ducky or Palmer. I’ve been told to find anything I can on Lieutenant Jacob Ford,” McGee replied.

“No Ducky means no bodies,” Ziva pointed out.

“What do you have?” Tony asked as he stood in front of the plasma.

“Nothing. He is completely clean. No criminal record, not a blemish on his service record. Married for ten years, three children - three, five and eight - Works at a bar when he isn’t serving. No strange money withdraws or deposits,” McGee said, “He has been on various classified operations, though. But so have many other marines.”

“Why does Gibbs have you running a man that is completely clean?” Ziva asked.

“I think he’s trying to keep me busy,” McGee replied.

“Because both he and his wife are here; she’s in hysterics,” Gibbs snapped as he walked in.

“Why?” Tony asked.

Gibbs half shrugged. “That’s what you and Ziva are going to find out. He just got here and his wife isn’t telling me anything.”

Ziva gapped at him for a moment. “Gibbs, if she is crying then I probably would not be very helpful,” She said.

Gibbs walked back to her desk, looking down at her. “DiNozzo is going to be there. So is her husband. She might open up more if there is another woman there,” He said as he dropped the new file to her desk.

“If her husband is here how much more could she open up?” Ziva asked.

“Come on Ziva, it won’t be that bad,” Tony encouraged.

Ziva stood in defeat. “So we need to find out why she is in hysterics while she is hysterical?”

She fell easily in line with Tony as they walked to the conference room.

“I find it hard to believe that you have been here for over seven years and you’re still uncomfortable around crying women,” Tony said after a few seconds of silence.

“Trust me, crying men are worse,” She murmured, “Are you talking it am I?”

“You,” He stated as he opened the door for her. “You need the practice.”

Sitting on one side of the large table in the middle of the room was a blonde woman leaning close to a man who gently rubbed her back and whispered in her ear.

“I’m Special Agent David, and this is Special Agent DiNozzo,” Ziva began while both her and Tony took their seats beside each other, “Do you mind if I ask you both some questions?” She asked the sobbing woman.

“Jacob Ford.” The lieutenant extended his hand forward, shaking both the agent’s. His voice was thick, almost as if he had been or was close to crying. “This is my wife, Ebony.”

“We understand that your wife arrived at NCIS early this morning, and you just arrived. Why?” Ziva asked.

“Our eldest child has gone missing. We went to pick her up from school yesterday and she wasn’t there. We assumed that she went home with a friend - she was talking about doing so earlier in the week - we didn’t think much of it.” As the lieutenant spoke, his wife’s sobs became more predominate. He abandoned his story in favour of comforting his wife, continuing to whisper in her ear words that were unintelligible to Tony and Ziva.

Ziva looked to Tony before she looked back at the couple. “Lieutenant?” She asked, prompting him to continue.

“We didn’t think much of it, until we called the parents last night - there was no answer - and ten this morning when they told us they had no company last night. Then we started to worry. A few minutes after that - after we called the family we assumed she was staying with - we got another call from someone who claims to have her,” He continued.

“When was the last time you saw your daughter?” Ziva asked.

“Yesterday morning when I dropped her off.”

“You said someone called you this morning. Do you remember what the person sound like?” Tony asked.

Ebony shook her head. “D-deep, his voice was deep,” She sobbed.

“Can you recall anything that he said?” Ziva asked gently.

“No,” She stated, she sobbed again, her whole body shaking. “I-I heard Amelia and then-” She shook her head again.

“What was Amelia saying?” Tony asked.

She failed to answer.

“Listen, Ebony - can I call you Ebony?” Ziva asked. She nodded. “We know this is hard for you-“

“Really? So you are a mother?” Ebony almost screamed, causing Ziva to jump a little. “You know what it’s like to have a child go missing with seemingly no motive for her kidnapping?” She snapped.

“No, I am not a mother. I cannot imagine what you are going throu-“

“Then why did you say you know that it is hard?” She asked. Jacob was trying to calm his wife down while throwing Ziva a dirty look as she began to look like a deer on a highway caught in the headlights of a car.

She looked towards Tony for help.

“It is because I cannot imagine what you are going through that I know it must be hard. It has to be. You clearly love your children. You have three, yes? I am not trying to undermine you. But with that said, we need to know everything you can tell us so we can find your daughter and whoever has her,” Ziva explained, “We are only trying to help.”

“I think we’ve answered enough questions,” Jacob said.

“Just one more,” Tony said, “Where are the rest of your children?”

“With my parents,” He replied.

Tony nodded before taking all their notes off the table and taking Ziva by the upper arm, pulling her from the room.

“Nice one,” He hissed in her ear.

“That is hardly my fault,” Ziva replied, “How was I supposed to know that it would set her off?” She asked.

She forcefully pulled her arm from Tony’s hold and walked in front of him back to the squad room.

“Go well?” McGee asked when he saw a flustered Ziva.

“I made the hysterical woman angry,” Ziva stated. McGee stared at her for a moment trying to work out whether she was angry at what happened or herself.

“Did you get anything out of them though?” He asked.

“Yes,” Tony said, “Their eldest daughter Amelia, went missing yesterday. They didn’t report it last night because they thought she had gone home with her friend. They received a call from a man with a deep voice this morning after ringing the family Amelia was supposedly staying with, saying that they hadn’t had her over last night.”

“That gives us about a seven hour period of when she could have gone missing,” Ziva added, “She was dropped at school. School starts at nine, ends at three. If we give a half an hour for pick up on each end of that.”

“Get a list of all the teachers at her school,” Tony demanded, “And her timetable.”

“Tony, she was in grade four. She wouldn’t have had a timetable,” Ziva said, “We will need access to the school and the Ford’s house,” Ziva mused.

McGee printed a list of teachers from the computer. “Amelia had one teacher yesterday, Miss Locki, the teachers on duty during the breaks. Well, there’s quiet a list,” He said.

“What are you waiting for?” Gibbs said as he waked into the room. “Call those teachers and get them to open the school for you and talk to them.”

“All of them, Boss?” Tony asked after he’d snatched the paper with the list on it. Gibbs stared at him until he coward slightly and murmured: “On it, Boss.”

“Take McGee.”

Tony slung his bag over his shoulder. “You’re not going to your open house now,” He said as he walked past Ziva’s desk.

“Doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t have approved of it anyway,” Ziva shot back just before he slipped out of ear shot.

The small smile was still on her face when she turned back and was faced with Gibbs, his expression seemed pensive.

“Can I do something for you, Gibbs?” She asked politely.

“You. DiNozzo. What’s goin’ on?” He asked.

Internally, Ziva began panicking. Not even she had really thought about the previous night and she couldn’t even put her finger on a time that morning when either of them had missed a beat.

Externally, she was calm. Her façade not breaking when she realised the only exception.

“What about us?” Ziva asked.

She had remained seated; Gibbs towered over her as he stood opposite her. “Monday?” He asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Monday?” Ziva frowned.

“On Monday, you would’ve been able to cut through the tension between the two of you,” He recalled.

“Yes. There were a few things that we did not see eye to eye on. I took him to a few open houses, which did not end up well. Then he… Gibbs, it is nothing of importance. I spoke to Abby, she thinks that I am adjusting to living with someone and I think she is right. It is not his fault that he is who he is. And as it turns out, I just need to talk to him when he starts to irritate me,” Ziva explained.

“If you need some space from him, I have a spare room, Ziver,” He offered. She nodded.

“What do you need me to do?” She asked, sensing that the conversation was pretty much over.

“We’re going to the house and searching the kid’s room assuming the parents allow us,” Gibbs said.

“I will get a warrant ready,” Ziva stated as Gibbs turned on his heel to leave. Almost running into the Lieutenant.

“What can we do for you, Lieutenant?” He asked

“I didn’t want to mention it to your agents in front of Ebony. She is already worked up enough. When I went to the car I found this on the windscreen.” He revealed a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “It wasn’t there when I locked up last night.”

Ziva pulled a glove from her top draw and slid it onto her hand before offering to take the paper. Gibbs watched her intently while she scanned the writing.

“A warning?” Ziva asked, she looked at Gibbs’ questioning face as she held out the paper for him see. “Why would someone abduct a young girl then warn the parents against finding her?”

“I’m hoping that’s what you can tell me, Agent David,” Jacob stated, “I thought that maybe they would be okay so long as it wasn’t us looking for her.”

“You have done the right thing,” Ziva interrupted quickly, “You seem to have the welfare of your children at heart - and your wife-“

“Please find her,” He begged.

Ziva watched the man intently. She couldn’t promise such a thing, she knew that. The possibility of finding her depended on a number of factors, and the chances of finding her alive decreased with every moment that past. The whole team would’ve been aware of it.

“We will do everything in out power,” Gibbs promised instead, “Ziva, take it down to Abby,” He ordered.

Out if anyone on the team, Gibbs would have been the one who knew what happens next - what happens if they didn’t find her.

Ziva slipped from behind her desk and headed in the direction of Abby’s lab. Her mind still mulling over Gibbs promise.

“Abby?” Ziva called from the door into the seemingly empty lab.

“Ziva,” Abby called back, “I need help,” She said, causing Ziva to rush forward, finding her sitting at the table across from her desk.

“What are you doing?” She said as she walked in, stifling a laugh as she saw what Abby was doing.

“I’m reading a book. What does it look like I’m doing?” Abby replied, “You are good at puzzles?”

Ziva frowned, taking in Abby’s gloves and the evidence bags beside her. “Yes, but what does this have to do with the case?”

“Gibbs came down with it earlier. Told me to solve it. I don’t know what it’s for though. What do you need me for?” She asked, hopping off her chair and returning to her main lab.

“Anything you can get off of this,” Ziva said.

“It’s hand written. The paper seems pretty average. Something you can get from the local paper shop,” Abby mused, “What does Gibbs want me to find? Where was it found?”

“On the wind screen of the Lieutenant’s car this morning. I believe he is the only person to have touched it, but I could be wrong. He said he didn’t let his wife know about it,” Ziva explained.

“Unless the writer used latex gloves like the ones we use, I should be able to get fibres or fingerprints. I’ll find all I can. We’re going to find the little girl,” Abby said, determination clear in her voice.

“How do you even know that? We didn’t know until a few minutes ago.”

“McGee called,” She replied.

“Ah,” Ziva said, “You need help, yes?” Abby nodded. “I need to make a few calls; I will help you while I do so.” Ziva smiled as Abby lead them back to where the puzzle was sprawled on the table.

“Did Gibbs say what this was for?” Ziva asked again. She set her phone on the table and dialled a number and was immediately put on hold.

“Not what it was for aside that it was for the case. It’s a photo, but some of the pieces are too small for me to actually know what the picture was before it was torn. I think the wife brought it in.”

Abby studied Ziva, something was different, something had changed about her in the last week. She seemed more relaxed, more satisfied with herself.

“You had sex,” Abby accused.

Ziva looked up, moving fast. Her eyes wide at Abby’s accusation. “I did not,” She replied, a tad too sharp and loud.

“Don’t lie, Ziva, you’re terrible at it,” Abby said.

They stared at each other for a split second before Ziva gave a defeated sigh. “Yes. Not that it is any of your business.” She checked her phone.

“Who was it with? Did you do it at Tony’s apartment?” Abby began asking.

Ziva hesitated. She couldn’t tell Abby the truth. Not when her and Tony hasn’t even spoken about it yet. “It was with some guy I met while Tony and I were out last night. We went back to his apartment while Tony picked up some woman and took her back to his apartment.” He could only hope that she was convincing enough.

Abby didn’t say anything for a short period, Ziva began to panic silently. “Have you spoken to Tony about what we were talking about Monday?” Abby asked.

Ziva sighed a sigh of relief before answering. “Yes, you were right. He told me that if he was bothering me that I should talk to him about it and he would stop,” She said.

Her phone began talking to her. Ziva, glad for the distraction in the conversation, quickly grabbed it and excused herself, organising the warrant to have on standby.

“I am sorry, Abby, but I need to get back to my own work now,” Ziva said with a kind smile before she left.

Once she was in the elevator, she was left with her own thoughts.

She needed to think about and they needed to discuss what happened, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen while the case was running. She was at half a mind to ignore the entire thing. Now that she had time to think, the reality of the situation began to hit her. The risks that accompanied it. Personally and professionally.

But she couldn’t afford to bring it up. Not yet anyway. Not while they were working a delicate case involving a child. Neither of them could afford to be distracted.

Which is the reason why as soon as the doors to the elevator reopened at the squad room, she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind and vowed not to think of them until they had found the little girl.

“The warrant came through Gibbs, it is there in case we need it,” She said.

“They have allowed us to look in her room. Bring it in case we need to look elsewhere,” Gibbs said, “Call DiNozzo and McGee, tell them to meet us when they’re done with the school.”

* * *

It wasn’t surprising when the teachers - in their own sweet time - decided to show up at the school they looked less than impressed.

Tony half heartedly searched the little girl’s classroom while the teacher Miss Locki - first name Tiffany - stood against the door, impatiently looking to her watch and then back to the two agents.

“So, you’re saying Amelia was here all day?” Tony clarified.

“Yes, that is what I said,” She said, “I understand the importance of finding her, but is it really necessary to have called in the entire staff on a Saturday?” She asked.

“That depends, Tiffany, do you think it was necessary that my boss called in my entire team?” He questioned, “You don’t seem to be too keen on having us here.”

“I was with my boyfriend, you interrupted our weekend,” She replied.

“Oh, sorry.” Tony’s apology was filled with sarcasm. “It’s not like I had plans or anything. But I put that all aside because that is my job. And right at the moment, it’s Amelia’s safety that I’m concerned about. I couldn’t care less if it was your wedding today.” He turned and faced the hostile woman.

“Now, do you remember when she went missing?” He asked as he squatted beside a bag left at the back of the classroom.

“No, I just said I remember her being here all day,” She snapped, clearly fed up with his questions.

“Hmm. That’s funny because don’t little girls usually take their bags with them at the end of school?” He questioned, holding up the purple backpack with ‘Amelia’ written along one of the straps.

Tiffany gapped at the bag. “I didn’t know that was there I swear. She was here the whole time I was teaching,” She said hurriedly “I didn’t kidnap my own student.”

Tony watched her as she panicked. “I believe you,” He stated, “But I need to know one thing. She went missing sometime during the day. Can you go through what you remember her doing the last time you saw her?”

She stayed quiet while she thought back. “No.” Her voice sounded defeated. “I have thirty students in this class. It’s hard keeping tabs on all of them. I remember glancing over towards her at one stage after lunch but she was there.”

“If you remember anything else, I’m going to need you to give me a call,” Tony said, handing her his business card.

“Can I go now?” She asked.

Tony grabbed the bag and walked past her again heading to the door. “So long as you stay in the area and accessible.”

She nodded and ushered Tony from the classroom. Tony wandered the corridors of the school until he found the hall McGee was keeping the other teachers in.

“Find anything?” McGee asked quietly as the moved away from the prying teacher’s ears.

“Just her backpack. Her teacher had nothing to do with it. What have you got?” Tony said.

McGee looked over his shoulder at the teachers in the room. “They like to gossip, they have nothing better to do. But case wise, nothing helpful. Amelia was a good student, always obeyed the rules rarely questioned authority, no one even knew that she was missing,” McGee reported.

McGee began to talk as Tony’s phone rang. Tony halted McGee with one finger. “DiNozzo,” He said to his phone, “Yeah, we’re done here… Okay, we’ll be there soon. Address?” He asked.

“Where’re we going?” McGee asked as Tony hung up.

“Ziva’s given us the address to the Ford residence. We are going there to search Amelia’s room and probably house too,” Tony said.

* * *

On the assumption that Amelia was abducted because of the classified assignments the lieutenant had been sent on, and that whoever was behind it may try to reach other members of the family - via phone or face to face - Gibbs had assigned two agents to stay with the family for the night and until someone came to relieve them.

They hadn’t found much that could help them in the girl’s room, not that they expected too, but they did take various possessions from the room. A diary, which the parents protested against out of respect for their daughter. It was a spoken pass code diary and wouldn’t open without her voice, so Abby and McGee were busy taking it apart while Gibbs followed up other leads.

This left Tony and Ziva being the agents watching the house; leaving them alone for the first time since the morning.

“I checked the back half of the house as the bedrooms. All the windows are closed and locked which is the same all doors leading outside. Everything is clear,” Ziva whispered through the darkness of the lounge room.

“Same with the front,” Tony replied.

She took a seat beside him on the lounge.

“They are having trouble settling their children,” Ziva stated, sympathetically, “They are both scared and do not understand why their sister isn’t here and why we are.”

“Is that why there is still crying and yelling?” Tony asked.

“They aren’t yelling,” Ziva said.

“Ziva,” Tony began after a moment of silence. “I think we need to talk about last night.”

She didn’t look at him, but she stood and straightened her shirt. “I am going to take the perimeter,” She said before heading to the door.

Tony sighed and fell against the back of the lounge.

After thinking about it more throughout the day, his questions did begin to bother him. He wanted to talk because otherwise he was left to assume, and he knew that would drive him more insane that the questions alone. And he now knew that she didn’t want to talk which made him wander why and assuming that when she had said she had no regrets she lied.

* * *

Ziva leant on the closed door, looking up at the cloud covered sky. There was a chill in the air, but it wasn’t going to rain.

She ha hoped that Tony had come to the same conclusion as her - not to talk about anything personal until the case was over. But clearly he had other plans. Not that she blamed him. It was the first time they’d been alone and who knew when the next chance was.

She would talk to him. But she wasn’t prepared to do so while they were working. She didn’t know what was going to happen, and she wasn’t going to risk her job on an ‘if’ or ‘maybe’.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. All mistakes are mine.

Tony paced the small living room. Taking in the surroundings. The fireplace that he could tell was unused due to the basket of fake flowers where the kindling and wood originally would have gone, the black iron grate that stood before the flowers was intricately patterned. The mantle above the fireplace held photos of the family. All of their family. There were two loveseats, positioned so no matter where you were seated, the TV could be viewed. The room had a cosy feel to it.

His eyes wondered to Ziva. She sloughed in the couch. Her fingers were joined over her stomach, her head thrown back against the top of the seat, her eyes closed; but he doubted whether she was really asleep.

"Taking a  _bat_  nap, Ziva?" he asked as he took residence on the vacant couch.

"Yes," she replied, her voice still as clear as it was during the day.

"It's the wrong word, by the way," he said.

She opened her eyes and lifted her head at his strangely, perhaps unintentional, bitter voice.

"Are you okay, Tony?" she asked. Their conversation was hushed whispers. The Ford family was asleep, assuming that they could.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "I'm just saying that your use of the word 'bat' is wrong."

She narrowed her eyes at him, studying him. "You used the word, not me."

"You've used it before." He shrugged.

"And I know ten languages," she said, "I'm not going to claim I am perfect at speaking English. Besides, you've taken it upon yourself to correct me every time I make a mistake." She tilted her head back again and attempted to find a more comfortable position before she shut her eyes again.

"What's that meant to mean?" He questioned.

"Tony, I am not entering into this anymore. I know what you are trying to do and I am not going to take the bait," she replied.

"You're not meant to be sleeping anyway."

She heavied a sigh. She lifted her head quickly, making her head spin and her eyes unfocused for a moment before she focused on Tony.

"You have my attention," she snapped. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," he replied. He may have been acting immature, and there were numerous reasons for his it. He was tired, and if he couldn't sleep, why should he let her?

"Tony," she warned, "please don't. I am tired; I do not have the patience for your games."

"It was a big night last night. I don't blame you for being tired," he replied. He was playing with fire, and he knew it. She had already made it clear that night that she didn't want to talk about anything that happened the previous night - even if it was an indirect comment. He also knew that he should be respecting the decision, wait until she was ready. Maybe she wasn't sure what she thought, maybe that was why she wasn't going to talk to him.

"Tony, I am not talking to you about this." Her voice was wearing thin. Tony could see the end of the metaphorical line of her patience, and it was coming. Fast.

"Why not?" he asked. If she gave him a legitimate excuse, he'd drop it. He just wanted to know what was happening in her mind, he wanted to know what she thought. And yes, he may have been letting his personal life interfere with his professional duties. But it wasn't the first time either of them would have allowed that to happen, and they weren't busy. They were simply minding the house while Gibbs and McGee followed leads.

"Why do I have to?" she asked. "You are the expert of one night stands."

She regretted the words as soon as the fell from her mouth. They were harsh and irrational. Hurt flashed in his eyes and he recoiled ever so slightly, it was almost unnoticeable, but she saw it. She noticed those small things he did, she could see how he reacted to certain things, she was able to tell when he was hurt - even if he did a good job at covering it up.

"Tony..." she began.

"No, no," he replied, cutting her off. His voice was suddenly deflated. "It's okay. You're right."

A tense silence settled around them. So tense that she felt like she was drowning in the thick air. Her words echoing in his mind and haunting hers.

She couldn't believe she said them. What was she thinking?

She wasn't. That was the problem, but with him pushing her buttons he would have had to have known that she was going to react. He should have just left it.

It didn't matter though, her words hurt him. And there was no excuse for that.

The communication between them was kept to a minimal for the remainder of the night. They only spoke to each other when it was necessary.

The silence slowly had lost the tension, allowing Ziva to think. She had a bigger mess to clean now. She didn't think about the aftermath, and now she had to. She had decisions to make and she had apologies to be said. She lived with him. She knew it had to be resolved quickly, before he kicked her out.

As the sun rose and light trickled through the crack in the curtains, she wondered why Tony was taking it so personally. They had slept together, yes, but he was going to want to know answers to questions she spent the majority of the night guessing. Perhaps she should have spoken to him the first time he asked, but was work really the right place? Had she even thought about what had happened and how she felt about it?

A small part of her knew that she was pushing him away because she wasn't sure how he had felt. She had just assumed that it was the same with every other woman he had slept with. Another for the score sheet. She knew that she shouldn't have underestimated him as much as she did, but perhaps that was what she had hoped so she didn't have to face how she truly felt about the situation because not facing them was easier than turning the page to a completely blank one waiting to be written.

She was comfortable with how everything was, and it was her fault that it could change. She was, after all, the one who initiated it in the first place. If she were him, she'd be confused too.

Ziva looked over at Tony. He stood beside window, looking through the small crack between the curtains.

"Tony," she said. Her tone was soft and warm as she tried to get his attention.

He looked over his shoulder. "Nothing has changed outside, I haven't heard a car for the past three hours and there is nothing suspicious happening," he said. Now he was the one trying to remain professional, even though he was well aware that the conversation wasn't going to remain that way.

"I'm sorry about what I said before, I did not think," she said. He didn't reply. Whether he was being stubborn about it or he just didn't forgive her was a question she would rather not think about.

Ziva checked her watch. It was nearing six on a Sunday morning. She guessed they had at least one more hour before anyone would wake up.

"You have a question," Ziva stated.

He threw one more look out the window before taking a seat again on the lounge. "Yeah, Ziva, more than one," he said.

"One," she said, holding up a solitary finger, "ask me one, then when we get home tonight or tomorrow, or whenever this case is finished. Then you can ask me the rest."

"One question?" he asked, she seemed so against talking about it at all a few hours ago. Why the sudden shift?

Ziva nodded once, confirming his statement. "The one question that is eating at you the most," she added.

His eyes left her for a bit, taking in the room he had already memorised. He had to be wise about the question. It could start a conversation. It could start an argument - that was the one he wanted to steer clear of.

What did he want to know the most? Why did she do it? Was it because seeing Dylan made her want to forget him and the only way to do that was to sleep with the next man she saw and that just happened to be Tony, someone renowned for one night stands like she had said?

He was certain that that was going to be the question he asked, but it was almost as if his subconscious over-ruled his conscious self and something completely fell from his lips as he met her eyes once again.

"Do you regret anything that happened last night?" It was the question that was clearly bothering him especially considering no thought went into it. Maybe impulse was better than thinking.

"No." Her answer was immediate but it didn't sound rehearsed, it was sincere. But then again, it was only one word.

"Then why are you avoiding me?" He questioned. Another question was allowed, right? After all, it was still the same question. Kind of.

"I'm not avoiding you, Tony," she said, "I did not want to answer your questions. Not while we were at work."

"Oh," he replied, "so it had nothing to do with what happened?"

She shook her head. She opened her mouth to say something, but a car pulled up the driveway and suddenly the conversation with the personal topic was dropped. Just like that. They knew where their priorities laid, and in that moment, it wasn't with their sex life.

They heard a door shut and Tony went back to the window while Ziva hurried to the door, revealing her weapon from under her shirt and placing her hand on it. She wasn't sure whether she like where she had placed herself. She couldn't see who was approaching and had no idea where he or she was. She trusted Tony, but when she saw him visibly relax, she frowned and readied herself even more.

"Relax, Ziva," Tony said as he walked over to her, "it's just Gibbs." He twisted the handle and opened the door just as Gibbs approached.

The cool rush of air from the door hit Ziva, she shivered. "Everything okay, Gibbs?" She asked.

"Yeah," he replied, "I've sent McGee home you do the same. I'll watch the house."

"Do you want someone here with you?" Tony asked, "not that I'm implying that you needed help, just-"

"Shut up, Tony," Ziva hissed.

Gibbs' eyes flickered between them. Now that it wasn't there, he noticed that the tension from earlier that week was gone, the tension that was there the day before was something different. He didn't know what happened, and by the way they had been acting, suddenly he wasn't so sure he wanted to. But that was gone now. Whatever it was had sorted itself out.

They'd be okay; they always were.

Even when they were faced with things most people wouldn't get out of intact. They saw the challenge, accepted it, beat it, and then they came out stronger on the other side.

While whatever had happened seemed insignificant compared to everything else they had been through, it had out a rock on the path and jolted the carriage. But he didn't pick up on it first; he had just assumed it was carried over from the rest of the week. It was different though.

"No, DiNozzo. Go home; get changed, eat. I'll send some back up to remain with the Fords and see you back at the office at eight," he said.

Both shot him a suspicious look before their eyes landed on each other. Why was he letting them go home? It was a priority case. A child was missing, and they were just allowed to 'go home'.

"We will see you in two hours then," Ziva said, although something felt wrong. She pulled on Tony's sleeve, willing him to follow, but his eyes had met with Gibbs' again, trying to figure out what it was. They could sometimes speak in languages and looks not even Ziva understood. But there was nothing wrong with that. Gibbs seemed to have language for each of them and then one collectively.

Except with Tony and Gibbs, it was different. They could be in the same book but reading two different pages and they would know what the other wanted. It could be compared to the communication between Ziva and Tony. They had been partners for a lot longer than Tony and Ziva though.

It only lasted a second before Tony followed Ziva to the car.

"What is going on?" Ziva asked.

"I think Gibbs has something. He'll probably talk to the parents." Tony shrugged. "Does this mean that I get my questions answered now?" he asked as they took their seats.

"Maybe," Ziva said, "I need a shower since I did not get one yesterday morning."

Tony crinkled his nose a little, an action that wasn't left unseen by Ziva.

"Any germs I have on my skin came from you," she stated, looking him up and down in faux disgust, and a small smile playing on her lips.

Ziva turned away and rested her elbow on the door. Watching lazily out the window, while Tony drove, thinking.

He took his eyes off the road for a moment, looking at the side of her face, before his eyes flickered back to the road.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"Do what?" she questioned, looking back over to him.

"Sleep with me. There are so many other men in this city and you chose me," he replied.

She frowned. "I did not choose you for anything," she said, "I did not want it to be with just anyone. I did not want to be a one night stand."

"Then why?" he said, "and why make the comment on my sex life?"

"The answer is not simple for starters," she murmured, "as for the second, I wanted you to back off and I did not think before I spoke."

"Do you really think that way about me?" He asked, taking his hands off the wheel, resting them in his lap and looking towards her when he had stopped at a red traffic light. "That I'm the expert on one night stands?"

"No, Tony, I do not. Not anymore at least. A few years ago I would have believed it, but I have seen you change. I know that you don't just sleep around any more and have sex with anything woman that breathes," she said.

"And the other night?"

The light turned green, he began focusing on the road again.

"I do not know. I do not know why I did it; all I know is that I wanted to."

"Was it because if Dylan?" Tony asked, a mixture of emotions echoed through his voice, but she couldn't put her finger on them.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, not entirely sure where he was coming from, "that I slept with you to get even with him?"

When she put it like that, it sounded petty, and he couldn't believe the thought had crossed his mind, but with the happenings of the last few hours, he didn't blame it.

"Yeah," he replied, "I guess that's what I mean."

She remained silent. He pulled up out the front of the building and turned towards her. She was looking down at her hands in thought, and suddenly he wondered whether he was right and she did do it to make herself feel better. He shook the thought. If that was her intention, then apart of her would have known there was a chance he'd have said no, and the rejection he saw wouldn't have been so deep, he didn't think.

Eventually she shook her head. "It wasn't because if Dylan," she replied, her voice holding the same look she had, apparently she was trying to find the right words. "Dylan was a catalyst, I guess. If he didn't show up then I would not have been annoyed and then you wouldn't have said those things," she said.

"Those things?" He questioned.

She nodded. "Tony, can we please wait until we are not in the middle of a case to discuss this?" She was half pleading with him, but he denied her the wish and she sighed heavily. It was getting too deep for her and he was making her dip her toes in emotions she was not ready to talk about.

"Those things?" he repeated.

"You've opened up your house to me, and-"

"You do not need to have sex with me to thank me. You pay half the rent and you clean up after yourself."

She threw him an unimpressed look. "You told me that I could stay as long as I want and that you were not forcing me out," she said, continuing as though she wasn't interrupted, "do you know how long it has actually been since I have felt welcome in another person's home, and when I say that I mean as in more than a visit. You were not pressuring me to leave, Tony, I was.

"Then you went on to say that you saw things in me and that those things were worth while. And I do not know, it just made me feel appreciated. Like for once I was not going to be taken advantage of and that I was not going to be used," she said. Her voice barely rising above a whisper. "I cannot tell you the exact reason I did what I did because I do not know. I didn't think about it then and I did not plan it. That is how I know it wasn't about thanking you and it wasn't about Dylan."

"We're you?" he asked.

"Was I what?" Ziva questioned.

"Being taken advantage of, used?" he asked.

"Do you think I was?" she asked as she looked over her shoulder at the empty road and opened the door.

It wasn't a question that she was looking for an answer to but she knew he would answer anyway because to him her asking that was in reassurance rather than to make him think. She was with him that night, and she didn't feel used, and it was a feeling that she was accustom to, she knew what it was like.

She couldn't assume how he was with other women, but she knew that he wouldn't do anything that they didn't want to - she was no exception. The only difference was that unlike many of them before her, she knew she was going to call him and that she was going to see him again.

But suddenly she was faced with her own doubts. What were his motives?

If he was thinking that she had slept with him out of thanks or to get back at Dylan in ways he wouldn't know about, it clearly bothered him, so if that was what he was thinking, then why?

"You weren't, not on my part anyway," Tony said through his opened door when she walked around to him.

"What were your motives, then?" she questioned.

A wave of shock and fear rushed through his body. He wasn't expecting a question like that from her - although he should have known it was coming. But he didn't know how to answer. She would be able to see through any lies if he gave one to her, but the truth scared him.

"Caught in the moment I guess," he weakly replied with a small shrug. He stepped out of the car and locked the doors before he looked at Ziva.

She was less than impressed by his answer.

"Tony," she said, her voice held a warning tone, folding her arms over her chest, "you stopped me from kissing you to ask me if I was sure I wanted to continue. That is not caught up in a moment."

He just wanted her to drop it - for a completely different reason she wanted to. The conversation was getting too deep for him. Ziva may not have like the deep heart to heart discussions, but at least she was good at them. Unlike him who to tried to avoid topics too close to him or that approached on emotions he had long buried because he didn't believe they held any value.

He fumbled with his keys, pretending he didn't hear her. She sighed as she unfolded her arms and typed the code to the building. But instead of opening it and walking in, she stopped inside the doorway, blocking his entrance.

"Ziva." It was Tony's turn to utter her name in a mixture of annoyance and warning. Warning because this was something he didn't want to get into.

"No, Tony," she said, "you have had your turn asking questions, why can't I?"

Her question was valid.

"Look, Ziva it's complicated," he replied, taking hold of her upper arms gently and pushing her backwards through the door. "It's complicated because I'm not sure why, it just happened. This morning I was too worried about why you did it, because much like you, I don't like feeling used. I'll get back to you, just give me time."

She pursed her lips in thought before giving him a solitary nod. He knew it was something that she wouldn't forget.

"Okay," she said. She turned and pressed the button to the elevator. "But, I do want an answer."

When they reached their apartment, Tony unlocked the door and Ziva began organising how they were going to get everything that needed to be done in the now hour fifteen minutes they had left as she walked to the living room, picking articles of clothing off the floor.

"Do you want your shower first?" she asked.

"You can, I'll make something to eat." His comment made her stop and look towards him. "What?" he asked.

"You cannot cook," she stated.

"I might not be able to cook as well as you, but let me remind you that I spent years living alone and managed to survive," he said, sounding proud of himself.

"On what? Take-away food?" she questioned, "I will cook, you go have your shower."

She disappeared down the hallway, disappearing into his room for a moment, gathering the rest of the clothes she had lost. Tony waited until she had completely left his sight and then moved to his kitchen, putting two pieces of bread into the toaster while he gathered a few pans and put them on the bench.

"What are you doing?" Ziva asked, standing a few metres from him.

"Cooking breakfast. I'm going to prove you wrong," he said.

Ziva shook her head. "We have a little girl to find, I do not think that this kind of petty competition is necessary."

"It's just breakfast, Ziva, I'm making eggs. I can make eggs," he said as he turned his stove on and placed the pan over it.

"Tony, you have-" she began.

"No, Ziva, I can do this," he said defiantly.

"It isn't-"

"Sit and watch," he demanded.

"They'll-"

"And be quiet." He cracked eggs into the hot pan. "See, it's not that hard."

Ziva sighed and shook her head. He was going to be a while; he now wasn't going to stop until he got it right. Ziva walked to the toaster and pushed the button to lower the bread.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Cooking toast," she stated.

"Why?"

"Because I do not want to wait for the next hour before I can eat."

"Explain."

"Tony, that is not a non-stick pan and you have not put oil in that pan. Those eggs are going to stick," she said, "and burn. And you have the temperature too high," she added, pushing him out of the way and turning the dials down.

"Just go for your shower. I will make you your eggs. Do you want anything else with them?"

"Hmm," he said, "maybe I'm distracted. I can usually cook eggs well."

"Distracted?" she asked, "what is there to be distracted by?"

"Beautiful women are always distracting," he replied. She wasn't looking at him, but she could hear the shrug of his shoulders in the way he spoke.

She froze, only for a moment. "Tony," she warned again. He couldn't count how many times she had used that tone with him in the last twenty-four hours. "I do not think what happened should change things between us," she said.

He nodded. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but so long as they stayed away from any arguments, they'd be fine.

"Have your shower. It will be ready when you get out," she said.

It was nothing personal, and he knew that. She just thought he was coming from somewhere else than he actually was with his comment.

* * *

The water which flowed over her body soothed her calmed her, it made her straightened hair return to the natural curls they usually had. The water logged hair hung around her face in heavy loose waves, the weight if the water holding them down. Her neck was aching from the position she had it in most the night. Tipped back against the lounge with her eyes shut - but not sleeping.

She hadn't been in the shower for about five minutes before there was a hesitant knock at the door.

"Ziva," Tony called, his voice only just coherent over the water splashing on the tiles as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair.

"What, Tony?" she asked.

There was a pause. With the door and the pale shower curtain blocking her view, he couldn't tell whether he hadn't heard her or whether he was hesitating.

"Can I come in?" he inquired.

Hesitating. Definitely hesitating, but at least he had asked.

She stopped what she was doing, letting he water run down her back so the only noise she heard was the running of water and not so much its contact with the ground.

"No, I am having a shower," she replied, frowning in confusion, "you were just in here."

"I won't be long," he said, "I just need to shave."

"Shave in the car," she suggested.

She heard his sarcastic laugh through the door, before the door opened. She jumped.

"I'm not holding a razor to the face while I drive," he said, "it worse; while  _you_  drive."

"Tony, get out," she snapped.

"Relax, I can't see anything through the shower curtain, just your silhouette," he reassured, approaching the vanity, "besides, it's not like its nothing I've never seen it anyway."

She shook her head and reached for the conditioner. "I cannot believe you sometimes. You ask, I say no, and yet you still come in."

He didn't reply. She was just stating a fact, anything he had to add was unnecessary.

"I like your shower," she suddenly said after a moment as she began rubbing conditioner out of her hair.

"Okay, you can have it. I hate it," he mumbled as he smeared shaving cream across his face.

"I just like the combination of showers and baths. I can fill up the bath while I shower, then have a bath," she said, justifying her decision.

"I'm sure you'll love them in your old age and arthritic bones. But none the less, I'll keep that in mind when I move out of here," he replied. Was this something she felt he needed to know? Or was she just filling in a silence.

"Yes, I can imagine that conversation," she said, "'I need to find a shower that has a bath with it.' 'Why?' 'It's for my partner.' 'Ziva? Your intelligent, beautiful, sexy partner who's kept you alive over the last few years?'," she mimicked. It caused him to laugh.

"Who was the second person?" he asked.

"Your girlfriend. You won't leave here unless you had a girlfriend that you were committed to," she replied, "can you pass me my towel?" she asked as the water shut off.

Tony looked towards the racks. "Which one?"

"The small one," she replied.

Tony grabbed the towel and flicked it over the top of the curtain. It quickly disappeared.

"You know," he began, "my motives. They were plain and simple..." His sentence was left hanging, he knew that saying it now with a barrier between them was going to be easier than saying it to her face later on. No matter how well he knew her and how well his educated guesses were of her reactions. The pressure of having to read the emotions that flicked across her face or the thoughts echoed in her eyes wasn't going to be there so long as she wasn't facing him.

His pause was longer than even he thought it to be. He was half expecting her to say something, stop him short would have been the preferred way of interruption, but she was just as likely to have prompted him to keep going. So it surprised her when her movement halted - she would've had to have been getting cold - and she didn't say a word. Perhaps she understood.

He passed her the other towel which she took with no hesitation and wrapped it around her body.

"I just wanted to be with you," he eventually admitted.

He focused too much on the mirror in front of him as he took the razor to his cheek again and slid it over his jaw bone and down his neck a little.

"My feelings are not that simple, Tony," she stated. Her tone soft. She felt as though she were betraying him in some way. Betray was the wrong word, more letting him down. She had said she didn't use him, and then there he was, telling her he just wanted to be with her.

"I mean what I said before; I do not want this to change whatever it is we have. I value our friendship. I've decided that I am not ready for any relation—" she continued.

"Whoa, wait up," he interrupted, "I wasn't saying that I wanted a relationship."

Did he?

"I'm just saying that occasionally..." He wasn't sure how to finish. He occasionally did what?

Did he really want to tell her that he had fantasised about her before? Fantasies that were barely touched upon the other night? Did he want her to know that sometimes he wished that he was with her on dates rather then whomever he was really with?

That maybe, just maybe, she had a large role to play in his reconsiderations of life? That maybe for the first time since Wendy had left him, she had made him realise that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life alone and that the prospect of dying alone, without someone knowing all his strengths, flaws and secrets, scared him?

But that was the catch. She already knew all that – all his strengths, all his flaws, all his secrets – she knew him inside out. He wouldn't have been surprised if she could read his mind too.

Perhaps it was a relationship he was after. But was it a serious one? Or would it just be another phase?

She tilted her head to the side, waiting patiently for his reply that never came. She smiled. But it wasn't one betraying disappointment; it was one telling him she understood.

But understood what?

"We do not have long," she sad, "we should get to work."

He looked her up and down. "Are you going in that?" he asked, "I wasn't aware of any changes to the dress code.

She rolled her eyes, smirking, she walked out of the bathroom.

It went more smoothly than he had expected it would – the conversation and all – especially after he had wound her up earlier that morning and late the previous night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have a question, if you don't mind me asking. Do you prefer long chapters like this or shorter chapters?
> 
> It's just I like chapters that are on the longer side, so that's what I tend to write, but if the majority of you don't like long chapters I'll shorten them for you.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters.

McGee looked up at his two co-workers as he heard two bags hit the floor within moments of each other. Ziva sunk into her chair while Tony picked up the file on his desk, opened it then filed it in the cabinet beside his desk.

"Where's Gibbs?" Ziva asked.

"Down with Abby," McGee replied, "I don't think she had much luck on the paper she was reconstructing. From what I gather it's missing a piece."

"Aren't you and him still meant to be on the protection detail at the Ford's?" Tony questioned.

"No, it was only Gibbs. The second team come for the day. I'm about to head out there, Gibbs wants at least one of us there at all times. Just to keep tabs," McGee explained. He read over his computer screen; his hand slapped his desk, hard. "This is getting ridiculous. I keep being denied access to the Lieutenant's records. I can barely get anything more than his identity and family details."

"That answers the question of why they went for the kids," Tony murmured.

"What?" Ziva asked, her eyebrows pulled together in thought. Tony's eyes left his own compute screen to study her. "Children are always vulnerable; usually they supply the weak points of people, parents and non-parents alike - most of the time."

"It doesn't change the fact that it is pretty much the most effective way to manipulate people," Tony said.

"See," McGee began, "now you're contradicting yourself. You can't be surprised about whoever this is kidnapping Amelia and then say that it's the most effective way of manipulating people."

"No, that's not what I was meaning. You don't know what this person or these people are after. Something personal or professional? If it's professional, then it's likely that she has been abducted because they couldn't find anything else," Tony said, completely turning from checking his emails for anything important in favour of the conversation.

"You cannot assume, Tony. If it is professional, then the likelihood of them already knowing something we do not needs to be taken into consideration. If it is someone that he has worked with, or someone he has worked against. If we look at it from that perspective, then there are so many more factors that need to be addressed," Ziva replied, resting her chin on her hand.

"Hang on, personal?" McGee questioned as if this was something that should have been obvious. Something that shouldn't have been over looked, but was. The line of Amelia being taken as motivation for her father to take place in some activity was all too favourable, easy. It seemed obvious. Highly classified assignments, he crossed a line, someone wants him to pay.

But it was only easy in theory. But for the sake of national security, it was something they had jumped at.

"Yeah, in most abductions, the kidnapper is someone known to the victim," Tony said.

For only a moment, they all drew a blank. It wasn't because they didn't know where to go; it was trying to work out how.

McGee stood first. "I'll take the professional road. I'll talk to Gibbs and the Director about gaining access."

"We'll run the personal line. I'm sure between the two of us we'll be able to get somewhere with the Ford's," Tony said from his desk. McGee walked out of the squad room leaving Tony and Ziva submerged in a pensive silence.

"Perhaps we could talk to the children?" Ziva suggested, "they are open and do not know how to lie."

"Chances are, though, that they won't really understand what's happening," Tony pointed out, "perhaps we'll go out and talk to the Ford's again."

"What are we going to say?" Ziva asked, "we cannot just rock up at their front door telling them that their family may have kidnapped their child."

"What else are we going to say?" Tony replied, already gathering his things, clearly not expecting an answer.

Ziva followed suit, meeting him at the elevator, but she stood in the entrance - stopping his advance.

He rolled his eyes. "Ziva, you know as well as I do that we need to cover all bases. We can't take the chance. Not with a kid - anyone."

"Can I do the talking?" she asked, not disputing him as he had expected her to.

He gently took hold of her arms and pushed her into the elevator. "We can both do the talking," he replied. He wasn't about to let her take the reigns. He was the superior agent between the two of them which technically meant that she was his responsibility if anything was to go wrong.

She seemed satisfied with the answer; even if it wasn't going to be any different to every other time they interviewed suspects together. But that wasn't what she was after either. She wanted a little more power - almost as reassurance.

* * *

Ziva knocked on the door offering a small, sympathetic smile when it opened to reveal Ebony.

She was tired and the hostile look directed at Ziva conveyed her mood.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, "your boss said you went home."

"We did, and now we're back," Tony replied, "can we come in? We just have a few questions for you and your husband - assuming that he is still here."

She threw another look towards Ziva, this time it was measured, before taking a step to the side and opening the door a little wider, allowing them in.

"Where are your children?" Ziva asked, noting the stillness of the house.

"With Jacob, at his mother's house. We decided that it would be better for them if some normalicy is kept," she explained, "what are your questions?" She added as she led them into the dining room. She disappeared while Tony and Ziva took a seat at the table, returning moments later to place a jug of hot water in front of them turning back to the kitchen and reappearing with coffee, sugar, a few teabags and a small jug of milk on a tray.

"Help yourself," she stated.

"We're just making sure that we cover all grounds with these next questions," Tony began, "so please don't jump to the wrong conclusions." She took a seat and looked between Tony and Ziva waiting for one of them to continue.

"Can I ask my own questions as well?" Ebony asked.

"Sure," Tony said, "after. I'll ask mine, then we'll answer yours." He waited for an indication to continue, but apparently, he missed it because Ziva had already began talking.

"Can you think of anyone that you know - family, friends - that have any motive to abduct Amelia?" Ziva asked.

"No." Ebony's answer was quick. Sharp.

"That was fast," Tony observed.

"Easy question," she snapped in reply, "why would someone we know do something like this to her?"

"That is why we are asking," Ziva said, "we are not assuming anything. We are not saying that this situation has come about due to family or people you call friends. As Tony said just before, it is to make sure we have all the possibilities covered. If there is anything we need to know, then it would be best you tell us."

She was quiet. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes.

" _Is_ there something we need to know?" Tony pressed. Her reaction to Ziva's words wasn't something he had expected.

Ebony shook her head.

"Nothing?" Ziva asked, "no family members that are jealous? No family you have stopped from seeing Amelia? No friends that disagree with the way you are raising her?" Ziva just hoped that Tony had taken to reading Ebony's response to Ziva's fast questions, she wasn't watching. Suddenly Ziva turned to look towards Tony. "Anything I have missed?"

Tony was watching Ziva closely. Silently asking what it was she was doing. "I've worked cases where the parents of the children have had them abducted for money," Tony said, "but I doubt that one's happened here."

"How can you be sure?" Ziva asked.

Tony looked back at Ebony briefly. He was glad Ziva had taken control, but couldn't she have found a more subtle approach instead of firing questions at the poor woman?

"Because when you were asking her those questions; her response changed when you asked about the family denied access to Amelia. I think we should work from that one first." They both looked towards Ebony now.

"Is there something you'd like to say?" Ziva asked.

Her response was a question rather than a reply.

"Can I ask a question of my own?"

"Okay," Ziva said, and suddenly Ebony wasn't sure who ranked over who. Tony was now superior in his actions, but when it came down to talking in that moment, Ziva's voice held the power.

"How does someone like her get a job in an American federal agency?" She asked, pointing towards Ziva but looking at Tony. "Jacob did some background research on your team."

"Ziva is an American citizen," Tony said. It was that easy. There was nothing wrong with Ziva holding the position that she did.

He was a little confused with the turn that the conversation took. He understood though. She obviously wasn't impressed with the turn of the conversation and the need to defend the people she was close to; if this was the only way she could deal with that, then they were going to have to take it.

"She spent years working here as a Mossad assassin," Ebony disputed.

Ziva held up a hand, trying to defend herself. He needn't do it for her. But she was silenced with his own hand.

"Ziva worked for Mossad with NCIS. The aim of the assignment was to create a bond between the two agencies - get them and the countries working closer together," Tony explained, "she was not working as an assassin in the States and she never has."

"I do not want her here," Ebony said.

"Then you'd only be limiting yourself," Tony snapped, "what are you holding back from us?" he asked.

"I don't want a person like her around my children," she continued, acting as if Tony hadn't said a word.

Tony opened his mouth to talk, but Ziva was quicker by a second. "Okay, that is fine. I will talk to my boss when we get back to the office," she said, "but right now, you arguing with us is not helping find your daughter."

Both agents waited the stubborn silence out. They needed answers.

Ziva didn't understand her motives. Wouldn't a mother want to do anything to get her daughter back?

They were losing valuable seconds, minutes, waiting for her to reply.

Eventually, Ziva sighed, shook her head and then stood. "Mrs Ford, we have given you the opportunity to do this the easy way. We will find the answers. Someone else in this family must know whatever it is you are not going to tell us," Ziva snapped, he patience wearing thing.

"Ziva," Tony warned.

"No, Tony," Ziva snapped, her frustration getting the best of her. "Her daughter is missing and she is here avoiding the questions we have that may help us. I'm not going to let the minutes slip past when we could be doing something relevant - something that pushes the case forward," she explained, heading towards the front door. Tony grabbed her arm and she shrugged from it. He stood, following her. He understood her frustration, but what she was doing, it was out of line.

"She's fostered," Ebony said as Ziva's hand met the door, "we're adopting her."

The look Ziva received from Tony was full of authority - her level playing field privilege had been revoked; he was doing the talking.

"What made you think that was unimportant and something to leave out initially?" he asked.

"I didn't think it necessary. It doesn't matter who her mother or father is; Jacob and I will always be her mom and dad," Ebony said. The tears that had been forming earlier were falling down her cheeks.

Tony took his pad from his pocket, his pen too. "I need anything you can remember. Her biological parents' names. Numbers. Anything," Tony demanded.

"I don't know," she replied, "honestly," she added as the front door opened and two small children ran in, Jacob close behind.

The smile for show plastered on his face fell when he spotted Tony and Ziva, but was completely wiped off his face when he saw his wife close to tears. He told the kids to go to their rooms and to change into cleaner clothes before he walked to stand behind Ebony.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"They know, Jacob," Ebony replied, wiping her eyes.

"I told you we should have told them earlier - while we were talking to them yesterday," Jacob replied.

"We weren't allowed to," Ebony hissed.

Ziva stepped forward. "Have you had problems with her biological parents in the past?"

Jacob nodded. "Threatening phone calls to us and to the people we fostered her from. She was young when we began having her in our care. She doesn't know - and either do the others - we would like it to stay that way," he said.

"So the entire adoption process is being done without her knowledge?"

"Yes, but we've had her since she was very small. The parents were deemed unfit and we've had custody ever since. The court had no problems giving us custody," he explained.

"The calls, what was said? Did thy ever threaten to take her away?" Tony asked.

"Yes, but the last one was at least two, maybe three, years ago," Ebony said, "we thought that it was over."

"We'll be in touch," Tony said as he began towards the door again. Ziva reached it first, opening the door for the two of them.

"I know your interview-slash-interrogation techniques aren't exactly subtle," Tony said once the door was shut and they were almost at their car. "But don't you think that you were a little harsh?" He asked.

"She was withholding information, Tony," Ziva replied, "yes, I probably was harsh, but I got what we needed. And you didn't object to it," she said.

"You didn't leave me much of a choice," he stated, turning the car.

* * *

When they arrived back to the squad room, McGee was standing at the plasma, debriefing Gibbs. Silently, they stood behind them.

"Bring them in," Gibbs ordered. McGee had clearly gotten somewhere, found someone with a motive.

"I can't, Gibbs. I was told that two weeks after the assignment was completed, all three men were found dead in an Afghan building destroyed by an air strike. The first was impaled buy a piece of fallen debris, died immediately. The second was crushed and the third suffered head wounds and suspected brain damage. He was taken to a hospital but died shortly after arrival," McGee explained.

"Family?" Gibbs asked.

"I wasn't given names. It was a face to face conversation where they told me what happened to each person after the assignment was finished - the navy was working with the CIA. They came out clean, all of them, barely scratched. All the marines involved have families, the CIA stayed back to clean up," McGee said, "unless I get names for those people who died, we're at a dead end."

So maybe it wasn't the big break trough that they were all hoping for, but as he had said, it was a dead end until he could break through and get someone to slip up and tell them who was involved by name.

"We might have something more useful," Ziva stated, "Amelia was adopted. Well, is being adopted. The Fords have had custody since she was little, but are just going through the adoption process now."

"They don't have names of the biological parents, but we can run DNA tests and talk to social services," Tony added, he received a nod from Gibbs.

"Oh, and you might be receiving a complaint from them about Ziva," Tony added as he turned around to walk to his desk.

Gibbs threw a look at Ziva, she stood defiantly, she wasn't going to back down from her decisions.

"Ebony Ford also does not want me working the case and being near her children. I wish to respect that," Ziva said.

Gibbs offered a solitary nod.

"Did Abby find anything on the letter she was reconstructing yesterday?" Ziva asked.

"It was a kid's drawing," Gibbs replied.

"Amelia's?" McGee asked.

"No way of knowing; but likely. Ebony brought it in yesterday," Gibbs said, "I sent it down to Abby while her husband calmed her down."

Gibbs walked out, announcing he was going for coffee.

Tony looked towards Ziva; she was sitting at her desk. Her focus seemed miles away. A finger was tapping at her lip slowly but in a rhythm.

"What's on your mind, Ziva?" Tony questioned as he looked back at his computer.

"Do you think there is a possibility that she could have run away of her own accord?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah," McGee said, "but the letter that the Lieutenant gave you yesterday, the writing is too neat to be that of an eight year old. That threat was made by someone else if she did run away."

"I guess your right," Ziva murmured, "what do you need me to do?"

* * *

Tony's hand hit his desk with force before he stood announcing his success. "I've got it," he began, waiting until he had both his co-worker's attention before continuing. He walked to the plasma, using the clicker to bring up what was on his computer. "It's only taken me four hours, but I know who her biological parents are. Social services were reluctant, but her mother's name is Rachelle Tapp, her father's name is Marcus Salt," Tony reported. McGee and Ziva moved from their desks to stand beside Tony. "Tapp has been arrested for drug related crimes; Salt has had been to prison for drink driving more than once, medical records suggest he is an alcoholic but hasn't been taken to hospital from clubs or bars in about three years.

"They had Amelia in February, two-thousand and four, lost custody December, two-thousand and five. Since then Amelia has had a stable life living with the Fords. No official contact has been made from the biological parents to the Fords or social services. Aside from the occasional night behind bars for Tapp, they've been pretty much silent," he said, "there is no address listed for either of them."

"Should we run a DNA test to verify?" Ziva asked.

"Why?" Tony replied, "these people know what they're talking about."

"Just to make sure," Ziva said, "I mean, it cannot hurt to make sure. You know who the mother is, always. They gave birth to the child. But a father could be anyone. If I had sex with you, Tony, and McGee in the same week and I ended up pregnant, how would I know who the father is?"

"I hope you're not serious," Tony stated, "you wouldn't want to sleep with McGee after you've slept with me."

She threw Tony a warning look, telling him she wasn't finished. "I never said I slept with you first," she replied, looking him up and down, "anyway, Amelia may not be Tapp's either. Maybe a surrogacy-"

"Ziva, you're thinking too much into this. We can only go on what we know right now," McGee interrupted, "but you are right, we should still probably run a DNA test, just for our records."

"I'll talk to Abby," Tony said, "see if she can get the DNA fingerprints up."

"I'll talk to metro; see if there is anything listed for either of them." Ziva called the easiest first as Tony left.

"I'll suck up to Ford's CO some more, see if he'll give me access," McGee murmured.

* * *

Tony's ears were assaulted as soon as the elevator came to a stop; the too loud music blaring from the lab. He wondered how the other people working on the same floor ever got their work done.

Abby was walking around from the back of the room to the table in front of her computers.

"Hey Tony," she said brightly.

"Hey Abbs," Tony replied, "do you have anything from the evidence?"

"Where's Gibbs?" She asked.

"I believe he is talking to the director and probably helping McGee get into the classified assignment the Lieutenant was on. I mean he got a bit, but we need more," Tony said, "did you get into the diary?"

"Yes," Abby replied. She moved a few evidence bags that were covering the thick plastic covered book.

"It was very... Informative," Abby begun, "apparently she wrote everything in here. Everyday she wrote an entry. Mostly things about her school, complaining about fights she's had with her siblings and when her parents were unfair with punishments." Abby opened to a page, just a little more than halfway through the book. As she flicked through them, Tony could see the small drawings she did, the writing wasn't untidy - it actually surprised him how neat it was, but the general look of the pages was unorganised.

"But the last few weeks it gets interesting. She writes that someone had approached her on the way home from school; the date says Tuesday, three weeks ago, she was waiting at the bus stop. From then the appearances of this woman - I believe - become more frequent until a week and a half ago. She meets with this woman after school every day. She says that this woman tells her to lie to her parents about where she has been, she always tells them she is at a friend's house," Abby said.

"There isn't a name or what they talk about?" Tony asked.

"She's eight, Tony, not a novelist," Abby replied, "she's using it as a diary to just recall what she's done. Like here-" Abby pointed to a line in the book. "-she's explaining playing snap with her siblings, then what they had for dinner. It's not in depth, and I wouldn't expect it to be from an eight year old. But now you know that there is someone that has been seeing her without her parents knowing."

Tony chewed the inside of his cheek. Abby could see him thinking. "Amelia is adopted. The Fords have been fostering her since two-thousand and five. So you think it's a possibility that this woman you're talking about is the biological mother?"

Abby shrugged. "I don't know. That's your job to find out. Not mine," she replied.

"Thanks, Abbs," Tony said as he motioned to leave her lab. She took hold of his arm.

"Have you and Ziva sorted out whatever it was she was angry at you for last week?" She asked.

"Yeah. Pretty sure," he replied, "why?"

"Because she was asking me for advice Monday. Yesterday she told me that you had sex and I then thought that it was probably that that has her worked up," Abby explained.

Tony's head snapped up. "'You had sex' as in Ziva and me?" He asked. If Ziva didn't talk to him about it until that morning, he wouldn't have told Abby about it. Right?

"No." She shrugged. "Well kinda. She told me that you took some girl home and she went with someone else."

"Oh," he murmured, "yeah, that's right. Yeah, it's all sorted out. Why?"

Abby hesitated. Tony could tell that it wasn't because she was hesitant to say, she just wasn't sure how to say what it was she was thinking.

"It's just, when you two fight, you both don't act like you. I mean, generally speaking, you are okay. But Ziva reacts to you. Always. Ziva doesn't like it when you disagree," she said.

"I know," Tony replied. He didn't need to be an investigator to work that out. "But I don't think she reacts to me," he added.

"But she does. You're- you provide some kind of security to her; it's like your her rock. If you're upset, she'll feel some kind of sadness. I mean you do the same," she said.

A few moments of silence passed between them while he processed what she said.

Abby become anxious. She could have sworn that they knew their effects on the other.

"It doesn't matter anyway," she said, "as long as you're both back and not fighting."

Tony seemed to snap himself out of whatever headspace he had gotten himself into. "We weren't fighting anyway, Abby, just disagreeing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There should be more updates coming through.. I've gotten my motivation back for this story, so yeah.. The only reason it won't get updated every 2-3 weeks is because I'm doing my last year of school and have exams coming up in about a month that I will have to begin revise for and I work now too.. 
> 
> Also, feel free to leave a comment :)


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